You Are In Love
by MissM0x
Summary: (Formerly titled Vegas Skies) Mich and her two friends are making a girls trip to Vegas to celebrate their new jobs and careers. This is the story of how Mich's trip starts out more interesting than she ever planned. (Title is taken from a song by Taylor Swift from the album 1989)
1. Creep-Boy

I never thought I was capable of falling in love. This is the story of how I was proven completely wrong.

2012

I had waited for months and months for this day to come and it was finally here. I was leaving Dallas to meet my two best friends for the very first time face-to-face on an all-girls trip in Las Vegas. My sisters, Amanda and Blake, had dropped me off at the airport. I walked into a bathroom after I checked in and looked myself over.

 _'God, I look a hot mess.'_ I thought to myself, pulling my long dirty blonde hair up into a bun.

I turned side to side, examining myself. Though I had lost a considerable amount of weight, I was still super uncomfortable with my body. The only thing I liked about me was my hair and I didn't treat it like I liked it very much. There was just too much weight stacked on my 5'5'' frame for my liking, still. I was never going to get a boyfriend looking like this.

 _'Good thing you're incapable of falling in love again.'_ I thought.

I rubbed my eyes under my glasses and straightened my shirt out before making my way to the line for security. To my surprise, it wasn't nearly as long as I had expected it to be. I pulled out my phone to compose a quick message to my sisters before I went through.

 **'Going to security, love you guys.'** I typed.

I hit send and put my phone back in my carry-on. It dinged four times. Someone was blowing me up. Both my sisters had replied and my two friends had sent me threatening messages.

 **'Your ass better be awake!'** Brandi responded.

 **'And at the airport, or already on a plane.'** Chelsea added.

 **'I'm in line to go through security now, so I'll see you in a couple hours.'** I texted my long-distance best friends.

 **'I can't fucking wait until we get to Vegas. I need a break from life. Like, God damn. I just spent almost a year straight in school. I want to celebrate. Do something spontaneous or some shit. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, unless you catch an STD…'** Brandi replied.

I giggled and typed a quick reply.

"What's funny?" a voice said from behind me.

I jumped and turned around, ready to smart off at this stranger for sticking his nose in my business. I had to look up for what seemed like forever until I found his face. All I saw when I turned around was chest and my God, I wanted to touch it. That tight white tee and that leather jacket…

 _'Jesus, Mary, and Joseph_ …' When I finally found his face, he had this shit-eating grin on it and these beautiful blue eyes. His hair was curly, dirty blonde, and just barely sticking out under a beanie. He had his shoes in his hand, black boots.

I licked my lips and looked him over again. "Well sir, I don't really think that's any of your business, now is it?" I returned the shit-eating grin he had given me and turned around.

I wanted to text Brandi and Chelsea so bad and tell them what a beauty was standing behind me, but he fucking _towered_ over me. He was nearly a foot taller than me. He'd surely see it. I looked over my shoulder at him and once again, there was that _stupid_ grin.

 _'Fucker.'_ He smelled good too; like… M _an._ We made our way through the line and up the escalator to the terminals.

' **GUYS. I JUST FELL IN LOVE.'** I texted them furiously as I found a seat to wait for my flight.

I slipped my own boots back on and zipped them up.

 _Flop._

"Ahhh…so…Vegas, huh?" His voice was raspy.

I cut my eyes up at him. "Yep," I replied, shielding my phone from him.

The girls were blowing me up, now. God, I wanted to sneak a picture of him.

"Let me guess…girls' trip?" he asked.

I cut my eyes at him again.

"I knew it," he replied, stretching his long legs out in front of him, tucking his arms behind his head.

 _'Jesus H. Christ.'_ I thought to myself. I looked over at him. His eyes were closed, but he still had that god-damned shit eating grin on his face.

 **'I wish I could sneak a fucking picture but he's sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME. He's fucking following me and asking me all these questions!'** I typed to them.

"You telling your friends about the creep who's following you around the airport?" he asked, his eyes still closed.

"Are you always this creepy?" I asked him, not answering his question.

"Sometimes," he replied, cracking an eye and looking at me.

I glared at him, trying to appear annoyed. He smirked again and closed his eye.

"So. Vegas, huh?" I asked him, breaking the silence after a few moments. Chelsea and Brandi had boarded their own flights and couldn't talk anymore. I was all alone except for creep-boy. Man. _Whatever._

"Yup," he replied. I nodded, like he could see me. His eyes were still closed.

"Girls trip…" I responded.

"I know. I can tell. You're not wearing a ring," he said.

"You're awful observant, creep-boy," I sighed.

"It's really simple. You just look for how people are traveling. In groups, with families... Like that group of guys in the corner? Bachelor party, obviously. The old lady two rows over on the end, she's going to blow all of her husband's life insurance money on slots, because, fuck it, why not?" He opened his eyes and sat up.

"And what about you?" I asked him.

"Going home," he stated.

"I didn't picture you as a Vegas kinda guy…" I told him, "but maybe I'm not as good at figuring people out as you are."

He laughed a little and looked at me. God, he was pretty.

"Where did you think I was from?" he asked.

"I don't know. Austin. Maybe Dallas," I said.

He shook his head. "Nah, not a Texas boy…I like it here, though. Work brings me here a couple times a year," he said.

I nodded.

 _Southwest Airlines flight 985 to Las Vegas, boarding now. Please have your boarding passes ready,_ the announcement came over the loudspeaker.

"Well, that's us," he said, standing.

"It is," I agreed, following him to the gate.

"How long are you staying?" he asked me. He was becoming more pleasant and comforting and less creepy the more we spoke.

"Just a few days. Three, I think," I replied.

He nodded, showing the ticket handler his boarding pass. I followed behind, doing the same. We made our way down the terminal together. I hated how these things shook when you walked down them. He almost had to duck his head so it wouldn't graze the top. He was every bit of 6 foot whatever he was. I could only imagine what was under that leather jacket and white tee. He had to be chiseled.

 _'He isn't even your type, Mich. Stop staring at him.'_ I told myself, 'B _esides, there's no way he's single.'_

A large hand waved in front of my face.

"Hey, you okay?"

I blinked furiously and shook my head. "Yeah, sorry. Flying makes me kind of nervous sometimes…I just…I spaced out," I replied.

"I do this all the time. If you need a distraction, just sit with me. You'll be in Vegas before you know it," Creep-Boy said in that raspy voice of his.

I nodded and followed quietly, stashing my bag in the overhead compartment, or at least trying to. I wasn't quite tall enough, so Creep-Boy took it and pushed it the rest of the way in for me.

"Window or aisle?" he asked me.

"Window," I replied, scooting into the row. I sat down and fastened my seatbelt, looking out the window at the other planes on the tarmac. He sat down next to me and fastened his own belt.

"Have you ever flown at all?" he asked me.

I nodded. "Texas to Florida, then back. Not my favorite thing to do, but it was cheaper and faster than driving," I replied.

He popped a piece of gum in his mouth and offered me some. I took it, knowing that if I didn't I wouldn't be able to hear anything once I landed.

"Thanks," I said.

He nodded. God, this was getting awkward. I was terrible at this.

"So what's your name?" he asked me.

"Michelle. But, my friends all call me Mich. Like, Mitch, but without the t," I told him.

He nodded again. "Yours?" I asked him.

"Jonathan…but my friends call me Jon," he replied.

"Jon," I repeated.

"Yup. Think it fits me?" he asked.

I laughed slightly. "Jon, yes. Jonathan? No, not really," I replied.

"See, that's what I always said, which is why I just go by Jon," he told me.

I smiled softly. He seemed like a really great guy. There was something mysterious about him, though. I wasn't certain if it was good or bad. He didn't make me uncomfortable; he made me nervous. I never got nervous around guys. I almost wanted our flight to be longer. I could listen to that raspy voice all night long.

"So where are you from? Originally?" he asked me.

"Alabama, but I live in Texas now. Texas is home," I told him.

He nodded. "I'm from Ohio, but Vegas is…well…home, I guess. I travel so much, I really don't know if I can call anywhere home," he said, shrugging.

"I understand," I said.

He smiled softly at me. It felt genuine. Real.

"You left home to make a better life, huh?" he asked.

I nodded. "Life in Alabama was hard…really hard. My mom and I…eh…not the best relationship. Dad either. He was never around. So when I was 19, I finally got enough and stood up for myself. I packed my shit and I left. I moved in with my grandma and took care of her and my grandfather until he passed away. Then my aunt and her kids moved in. My depression and anxiety were so out of control because I never had a moment of peace. I was forced to go to school for what they wanted. My hopes and dreams didn't matter. I was so unhappy. So when my best friend… Well, my sister really, moved to Texas, I moved in with her a few months after. And that's where I am, now," I explained.

"You're happy?" he asked.

"I am, I'm very happy. Even more so now that I get to meet my two long-distance best friends for the first time," I answered.

"Good," he said, "you deserve to be happy."

"Thanks, Jon," I said, " that's really sweet of you."

He shrugged and gave me that stupid shit-eating grin again.

"What can I say? I may be a Creep-Boy, but I'm a nice guy. At least, I try to be," he laughed.

"You do a good job."

We talked about his upbringing in Ohio. He'd lived a hard life, much like me. We had a lot in common. Dad was never around and our relationships with our mothers weren't the best in the world. He'd grown up most of his life in public housing, or without a home at all sometimes. He'd come out of it, though. He started working at sixteen and hadn't stopped yet. He was born in 1985, and I in 1988. Not a bad age gap, not bad at all. He seemed like, aside from his hectic work schedule, he was a pretty simple guy. If he had money, he didn't flaunt it. He wasn't my usual type, but there was something about him.

 _Ding._

 _Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Las Vegas. Please fasten your seat belts and prepare for landing._

Moments later, we were unloading at our gate in Vegas. Jon reached up above us and grabbed my carry-on.

I smiled softly at him. "Thanks," I told him.

"Not a problem. I'll see ya around," he gave me one last shit-eating grin and headed down to baggage claim. This airport was _huge._ I wondered if I'd ever find Chels and Brandi in here.

"MICH!" I heard two voices yell from behind me.

I turned around and waved excitedly. We'd been waiting months for this visit. I hoped maybe Jon was still downstairs at baggage claim when we got down there. I wanted the girls to meet him so they could give me their opinion. It's not like your average man is 6'4''. He couldn't be hard to pick out of a crowd.

We rode down the escalator chattering away while I scanned the vast group of people walking through the airport. I didn't see him.

"So, Mich…where is this man you fell in love with in Dallas?" Brandi nudged me.

"I'm actually looking for him right now but I think he's gone. God, dude… He's a creep and a half, but I could listen to him talk all day. And he smells like… I don't know. Leather, and whiskey, and…. Man. Ugh. And y'all know how I feel about blue eyes… Not really a fan. But he has some really gorgeous blue eyes. His name is Jon and he lives here in Vegas…" I said, still looking.

"So...why don't we get him to show us the town?" Chelsea asked.

"I… Didn't exactly get his number… Or his last name…" I replied, blushing.

"MICH!"

"I know, I know," I sighed, stepping off the escalator.

"I can't believe you didn't get his number. Or his last name, so you could at least creep on him. Did you get a sneaky picture or anything?" Brandi asked.

I shook my head. "I'm an idiot," I said.

"You are not. Maybe we'll run into him somewhere," she suggested.

"Chances are slim to none, but maybe."

* * *

Later that evening, we were all sprawled out on one of the king sized beds in our hotel suite, trying to figure out something to do besides go blow money in a casino. We'd all already lost almost fifty bucks.

"Well first things first, I'm hungry as fuck," Brandi said.

"Me and you both," I replied.

We looked at Chelsea.

"You guys know what I'm going to suggest…" she shrugged.

"Pizza," Brandi and I said in unison.

"So let's find a good pizza joint and go," I said, pulling out my phone and googling a place to eat.

We finally settled on a place, changed clothes and hustled a cab to get there.

"I'd say it's good. The line is out the door," Chels pointed out.

"Shit. I'm starving. This better be worth the wait," I said, paying the driver and exiting the car.

Brandi, Chelsea, and myself were all standing in line chatting about nothing in particular when a raspy voice interrupted us.

"Best pies in town," I turned in the direction of the voice and once again, was met with a face-full of pecs.

I looked up slowly and there was that shit-eating grin.

"Mich," Jon smirked.

"Jon, hi…" I said. I felt myself turning red.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" he asked.

"Um…yeah. Jon…this is Brandi and this is Chelsea," I motioned to my friends, "Guys… This is Jon."

He shook their hands. "Otherwise known as Creep-Boy," he said, shaking Brandi's hand.

She chuckled. "Nice to meet you, Creep-Boy," she said.

"Pleasure's all mine, ladies. So…what brings you here?" he asked, non-chalant.

"Pizza," we said in unison.

"Jesus. And I'm the creepy one," he shook his head. Brandi raised her eyebrows and smirked at me. She approved. She more than approved. That look simply said _hit it, and hit it hard._

"So, how about you ladies join me for dinner, I really don't wanna eat alone. That's awkward. We can shoot the breeze, drink a few beers, play some slots… Come on. What do ya say?" Jon shoved his hands in his jean pockets and gave me that grin. Brandi gave a slight nod, then Chelsea.

"Sure. Sounds good," I smiled at him sweetly. When we finally made it inside, Brandi leaned close and whispered to me how cute Jon was and that I needed to get at that.

"I'm trying!" I whispered back.

"Girl, please," she said, sliding into the booth next to Chelsea.

That only left the spot next to Jon, and he was standing by the booth, waiting for me to slide in. I was trapped. A waitress came running up to the table moments later, sat a beer down in front of Jon, and three waters in front of us.

"If you ladies need something else I can get it, but I just didn't want you to wait too long for something to drink. It's still hot as Hell out there, I know. Mox, who are your friends?" the girl asked.

 _'Mox? is that some kind of nickname? Last name? I'll have to remember that for later when I'm creeping on his entire life.'_

"This is Mich, and… I'm sorry, I'm terrible with names," he gestured to Brandi and Chelsea.

They introduced themselves to the waitress, whose name was Carmela, and she collected our order.

"I come here every Wednesday, quarter beer night," Jon said, tipping his drink back.

I nodded and watched him as he licked his lips clean of the froth on top of his beer.

"So you can get drunk for like two bucks?" Brandi asked.

"Hell yeah," he replied.

"Or you can get alcohol poisoning for about five," I said.

"This is true," Jon agreed.

I laughed slightly and pushed my hair out of my face. "So, pizza, beer, slots…typical Wednesday in the life of you?" I asked him, poking around for conversation.

He made a face and nodded. "Pretty much," he answered.

"What about you? What's a typical Wednesday like for you?"

"Um, well, I work 40 hours a week, so usually I'm either at work, or winding down from work. Texting these two, hanging with my sisters, shopping, ya know… Girl stuff, I guess," I said.

He nodded. "What do you do?" he asked.

"Well, I'm a manager of a clothing store, Brandi is a hair stylist and makeup artist, and Chelsea is basically a professional con-goer," I laughed, "but her day-job is a MAC consultant. So I'm in fashion and these two are in makeup and hair." I said, trying to pull the girls into the conversation.

"Yup, that's us," Brandi flashed a smile. She tossed her long grey braids over her shoulder. She was so fucking pretty.

"What about you? What do you do?" I asked him. He looked almost surprised that I asked.

"I'm a professional wrestler," he said.

Brandi laughed. "No, dude, for real…what do you do?" she repeated my question.

"I'm a wrestler. For real," he told us again, straight-faced.

 _'Great, he was a redneck. Cowboy boots, jeans, beltbuckle, and wrestling – what was next? Did he drive a huge truck? Wear camo? Hunt? God, I hoped he didn't chew tobacco.'_

"We all watch wrestling and we've never seen you," Brandi said. She was the most blunt of the three of us and had no problem voicing her opinion

"I'm not on TV yet. My partners and I are coming up next month," he said.

"So what's your name?" Chelsea asked.

"Jon," he told her.

"Your wrestling name."

"Oh. Dean Ambrose, or, my former name is Jon Moxley," he responded.

 _'So that's where 'Mox' came from.'_

"Dean Ambrose, WWE NXT and FCW wrestler, he's not lying, guys," Chelsea said, scrolling through some website.

I felt embarrassed that we had doubted him.

"Is that Tyler Black?!" Brandi said, leaning over Chelsea's shoulder.

Jon looked at me and shrugged, "It's okay. No one ever believes me at first," he said.

"Well clearly you're telling the truth. That's pretty cool. Maybe us girls can come to one of your shows sometime, right girls?" I said.

"Yeah, yeah. Dude. His tag team partner is Tyler fucking Black. He's going by Seth Rollins in WWE," Chelsea said, showing me a picture. I nodded and looked back at Jon.

"Everyone is always into Colby, or my other partner, Joe. They're the good looking ones, and I'm the lunatic," he told me.

"I don't necessarily think you're a lunatic. Creepy, maybe, but not a lunatic. And you're not bad looking yourself," I said.

He smiled and put an arm around me. "You're my new favorite person."

I relaxed against him and we all talked about wrestling while we waited on our pizza to come out. It was midnight before we even got out of there.

"I better let you ladies get back to your vacation. Try to stay out of trouble," Jon said, his arm around me.

We were leaning against his truck – an old Ford Bronco. I was exhausted from flying all day and couldn't wait to get back to our hotel, but at the same time, I didn't want the night to be over.

"Yeah, we better call a cab and get back to the hotel," Chelsea said.

"I can take you guys back. No point in calling a cab. Where you staying?" he asked.

We told him the name of our hotel, which he said was on his way home, and he insisted on taking us back himself. It didn't take much debate, we were all pretty comfortable with him and pretty positive he wasn't some lunatic fringe psycho killer by that point, so, Brandi and Chelsea climbed in the back, sticking me up front with Jon. He grinned at me as he climbed in the driver's seat.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah, I suppose so," I responded.

"Seat belt," he said, reaching over and helping me to buckle the five-point harness of a seat belt in the passenger seat.

He reached between my legs to buckle it down. I felt myself go red and heard giggles from the back seat.

"Thanks," I said. I was blushing so badly and it was starting to get hot in that vehicle.

"Anytime," he smirked. The girls quietly dozed off in the back seat, allowing Jon and I to talk alone on the way back.

"So I really had a good time tonight," Jon said, "more fun than I've had in a long time."

I smiled softly and looked over at him. The neon lights were shining in through the open windows as we cruised down the strip.

"Me too," I told him.

"I know you're on vacation with your friends, but I'd really like to see you again sometime. I know it's hard with you working all the time, and me living here and traveling, but… We could work something out, right?" he asked me.

My heart jumped in my throat. "I'm sure we could," I responded.

"Cool. I'll call you and stuff," he said.

"Sounds perfect," I smiled.

He smiled back and put his truck in park in front of the lobby of our hotel.

"Thank you for bringing us back," I said. The level of sexual tension was rising.

"My pleasure. Your friends are knocked out back there," he laughed softly.

He had the cutest dimples when he smiled. I turned and looked at them and back at him.

"Yeah, it's been a long day for all of us. I better wake them up and get them inside. We've got all kinds of things planned for tomorrow," I said, reaching to unbuckle the harness.

"Let me," Jon reached between my legs again and unhooked it for me.

As he pulled his hand out from between my legs, I felt his fingers graze my thigh and he licked his lips slowly, his eyes locked on me. I hoped he hadn't noticed I'd stopped breathing.

"Well. There ya go," he said.

"Thanks," I said. Jon leaned in closer, his thumb brushing my jaw.

 _'Fuck, fuck, fuck, he's going to kiss me!'_ I thought to myself.

I closed my eyes and leaned in, but we were stopped by a tapping on the window.

"You've gotta move, you can't park here," the security guard for our hotel was standing right outside my window.

"Fuck," I whispered.

"My thoughts exactly," Jon said, motioning to the rent-a-cop that he was going to move.

"What happened?" Chelsea asked sleepily from the backseat.

"Oh, they're alive." Jon laughed.

"We gotta go, guys. Paul Blart said so," I opened the heavy door and smiled softly at Jon.

"I'll see ya around," he flashed that grin at me again. I smiled back, feeling myself turn pink.

"Yeah. Goodnight, Jon. Thank you…for everything," I shut the door after the girls had gotten out and watched him take off down the road.

It wasn't until about an hour later I realized that, once again, I had let him get away without exchanging numbers with him. At least now I knew how I could at least look him up on Facebook or Twitter, something.

"Dean…. Ambrose…" I mumbled to myself, typing his ring name into Google. Wikipedia said that his name was Jonathan Good, so I went from there. Nothing came up on Facebook or Twitter. Maybe he wasn't a computer guy. He didn't seem like one at all.

"What are you doing awake?" Brandi asked, rolling over in bed and facing me.

"Sorry. So, let me tell you how smart I am," I said.

"Oh Lord. What now?" she asked. "I forgot to get his number again…" I told her.

"Mich!" she facepalmed.

"I know, I know. I'm terrible. He doesn't have Facebook or anything, either. So it's up to fucking fate if I see him again or not," I told her.

"Damn, dude… Hey, maybe the girl at the pizza joint knows where to find him!"

That was an idea I hadn't even thought of. He did say he went there often and the girl seemed to know him well. Maybe she knew where he lived or other places he frequented when he was at home.

"Maybe, I don't want to seem creepy by asking her though," I replied.

"I'll call up there and ask her," Brandi shrugged.

"Right now? Do you think they're still there?" I asked.

"It said 24 hours," she shrugged again.

We dug up the number for the pizza joint and she called our server, Carmela, who was glad to tell her a few different places Jon might be.

"Well, the first one is a strip club. Big shock. He's a man. It's Vegas, why not," Brandi snickered, "and the others are bars and restaurants. I wrote them all down. So, you wanna leave Chelly here and go find your man or wait until sunrise?" she asked me.

I looked at our sleeping friend and back at her.

"You wanna come?" I asked her.

"Uh, yeah, but I don't know... You and Jon Boy were all smoochy-smoochy in the car. You gonna mack on him in front of me?" she asked.

"Shut up," I laughed.

I pulled on some decent clothes before Brandi and I snuck downstairs and hitched a cab to hit up the first of five places Carmela had given Brandi to check for Jon.

After about two hours of searching, to no avail, we headed back to the hotel.

"Maybe you'll run into him again. And besides, if you don't find him here, you at least know where he works," Brandi said.

"You might be right about running into him again," I said, pointing.

There was an old Bronco parked outside of the hotel, half on the curb, half off, and Jon was feeding the parking meter. I couldn't help but giggle. He'd put at least two dollars worth of quarters in that thing since I'd spotted him. I got out of the cab and walked up behind him.

"Think you've got it or do you need another quarter?" I asked him.

He turned around on his heels, his cowboy boots digging into the gravel on the sidewalk.

"Listen, lady—oh...hello," he grinned at me.

I laughed, hugging myself. The desert air at night was chilly. "Hi," I replied.

"Think they'll tow me? I put ten bucks in," he said, pointing at his truck with a jerk of his thumb.

I shook my head, giggling again.

"Cool," he shoved his hands into his jean pockets.

"That it is," I nodded, a shiver running down my spine.

"Shit. I'm an asshole, here," he took off his leather jacket and draped it around my shoulders.

"Come on. Let's get you inside," he threw his arm around me and pulled me close, giving me even more warmth, as we started walking toward the door of the hotel. I had guessed Brandi had already gone back inside.

"You tired?" Jon asked me once we were in the lobby.

"Not really. I don't sleep much," I told him.

"Me neither," he rolled his shoulders and his neck.

"Sore?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Stiff as a board."

"Well, how about you come with me to our room and I'll work it out for you," I suggested.

I felt myself go red as I did, realizing how dirty that must have sounded.

"Show me the way," he smirked.

The ride up to the fourth floor seemed like it took forever. Chelsea was still knocked out when we got in the room, but Brandi was sitting up in an arm chair, still awake, playing on her phone. She shot us a look and shook her head. I bit my lip and looked at her apologetically. This was supposed to be a girls' trip, not a girl-meets-boy trip. I'd have to try my hardest to make it up to her and have him gone by the afternoon when we had plans. I sat on the couch and Jon plopped down beside me.

"Jon," Brandi nodded to him from the chair.

"Brandi," he grinned.

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't look happy to see me," he noted.

"I'm not… Unhappy to see you. It's just… Six in the morning. Don't you sleep?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "Not really, no," he answered.

She rolled her eyes. "Well you two, please, keep it down. I'm going to try and sleep," Brandi said, rising from the chair and heading toward one of the bedrooms.

"Goodnight B," I said.

"Night Boo. Get some rest," she said, closing the bedroom door behind her.

"Should I go?" Jon asked me quietly.

"And waste ten dollars in quarters?" I laughed softly.

"Maybe we should go out on the balcony," he suggested.

"Sure. Come on," I got up and pulled his jacket on all the way. It smelled like whiskey and cologne; like him.

"Sit," I instructed him, pointing toward the chair on the balcony.

"Yes ma'am," he replied, taking a seat.

The balcony overlooked the strip, the neon lights twinkling, the sun rising in the distance.

"It's so beautiful here," I said as I began to work on his neck and shoulders.

"Oh God," he groaned, "That feels good. Yeah, it's nice here. I dig it."

I couldn't help but notice the scars on his back and neck that his tank top didn't hide. Now wasn't the time to ask about those, I barely knew him.

"I feel that way about Dallas. I'm not originally from there. But its home," I said.

Jon shook his head. "I don't think its home. I don't really feel like I have a home," he said.

I frowned. "How come?" I asked.

"I've never felt like I did. Never been in love. Never had a home. I mean, I have an apartment. Just a bed and some clothes. A coffee maker, but…" he shrugged to end his thought.

I traced a finger over a long, deep scar that ran from the back of his neck about six inches down his spine.

"I don't know if I've ever been in love, either. Don't know if I ever will be. I don't think there's anyone out there who will love me. It's like… Do you ever feel like you're destined to be alone for the entirety of your life?"

"All the time. But I mean, I work three-hundred-plus days a year. I don't have time to settle down. If I get a girl, she's gonna have to understand my lifestyle. And you don't find that anywhere except within the business itself. And I tried that shit, fuck that," he said.

"Didn't end well huh?" I asked.

"Nope," he replied. I stopped working on his back and moved so he could see me.

"I was in a relationship once. I thought it was going really well, and then… I don't know. I honestly don't know what happened. We were perfect one day, and the next, I guess his friends found out we were a thing and he told me he never meant any of it. He never loved me; he never wanted to be with me. I had the wrong idea about all of it," I shrugged.

"That's bullshit. You don't deserve that," Jon said, patting himself down, "is there a pack of cigarettes in that pocket?"

I patted the jacket down and handed him the pack.

"Thanks," he took one out and stuck it between his lips carefully, ran a hand through his hair, and put the cigarette back.

"Change your mind?" I asked, laughing softly.

"Yeah. I don't even know why I bought them," he shrugged

He laid the pack on the table by his chair and looked up at me slowly, from my feet to my eyes. The sun was almost fully raised and in the early morning light, he was even more attractive. He had a five o'clock shadow full of reddish-blonde scruff and his curly blonde mop on top of his head was so unkempt, I wasn't sure he owned a brush; but what really got me was those dimples, and that smile, and God, those blue eyes.

"You're really beautiful. I don't normally say that to girls, but you really are," Jon said, breaking my train of thought.

"I was just thinking the same about you," I replied before I could stop myself.

One corner of his mouth pulled into a smile, a soft chuckle resonating from his body.

"Nah," he reached and pulled me to him by the hand, pulling me into his lap. I hoped the chair wouldn't buckle beneath us, "but you. You are." Jon pushed my hair behind my ear and leaned in, his lips finally touching mine.

I felt like my heart was going to pound out of my chest. My mind finally realized what was going on and I kissed him back, my hands resting on his shoulders. It lasted for what seemed like forever. When we finally pulled away, I rested my forehead against his, slightly breathless.

"I better go…" he said, rubbing my side.

"Why?" I asked, leaning in again.

He kissed me softly and rubbed my chin. "I have to fly out for work tonight," he replied.

"Will I see you again?" I asked him

He kissed me once more. "Definitely. But uh...the whole reason I tracked you down…I don't have your number. All I know is your name is Mich and you live in Dallas. I don't think that's gonna help me track you down when I come to town," he said.

I blushed. "No, you're right. That's kind of where Brandi and I had gone…we were looking for you so I could get your number." Jon laughed.

"So you trekked over half of Vegas to find me to get my number?" he asked.

I nodded, blushing. "Damn. And to think, just twenty-four hours ago you thought I was just some creepy dude in the airport," he patted down his jacket pocket and pulled his phone out. "Save your number in this. I don't know how to work that damn thing."

I laughed and took it from him, put my number into his contacts and sent myself a text so I'd have his.

"You gonna call me?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'll call you. Do you text?" I replied.

"I'm not very good at it. I learned how to take a picture the other day," he smiled that shit-eating grin.

I shook my head, laughing. "We should take one together," I said, "so I can remember this night."

Jon nodded. "Under one circumstance?" he said.

"Alright, what's your stipulation?"

"Don't post it on the internet."


	2. Hello

I probably should have been put off by that statement, but I agreed. I didn't know what was in his contract about public relationships or social media, but I didn't want him to get in trouble that was for sure. We spent a few more moments out on the balcony overlooking the still city, the lights on the buildings slowly turning off as the sun rose higher. And as it did, so did the temperatures. It was extremely hot by the time Jon left at eight, so I was grateful to be able to climb into my fluffy hotel bed with the air on full blast. I tossed and turned for a while, but I just couldn't get him out of my head. He had some kind of hold on me that I just couldn't shake. It was like there was a hand tightening around my throat so I couldn't breathe and my heart was beating out of my chest, but I loved it. I loved every single second of it, and I craved his presence. I didn't care about his stipulation; I just wanted to feel the way I did when I was around him. I was almost asleep when a text from Jon came through telling me how much he enjoyed my company and that he looked forward to seeing me again.

"Maybe we can be alone next time," he added. I legitimately think I felt my lady parts tingle at the thought of being completely alone with him.

Great, I was never going to sleep now. I huffed and threw the covers off of me, lumbering into the kitchen of our suite.

 _'God, this place was bigger than my apartment.'_ I thought, finally taking it all in for the first time.

There were two bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen-dining area, plus a mini bar. I'd gotten a hell of a deal too, thanks to some discount site I'd signed up for through who-knows-what-site on the internet ages ago. Brandi and Chelsea were still passed out in their beds in the second bedroom, but I was starving. I looked at the stove and saw that it was nearly 10 am. I walked through the living room and knocked softly on Brandi and Chelsea's door. I heard the soft padding of feet and the door opened. Brandi was bright eyed and bushy-tailed, still in her pajamas and glasses.

"Hi," I said softly, smiling.

"I'm surprised you're awake," she said, coming out of the room. She closed the door softly behind her so as not to wake Chelsea.

That girl could sleep twenty-four hours a day, I swear. "I haven't exactly been to sleep…I'm starving though. You wanna order room service?" I asked her. Brandi nodded and grabbed the menu off the bar. We ordered enough for the two of us, knowing Chels wouldn't wake before noon and took a seat on the big red couch in the center of the living room.

"Listen, about last night. I'm sorry I dragged you out and kind of ignored you to hang with him. I didn't plan on doing that at all," I told her.

She waved me off. "Girl, don't even trip. You found you a boo. It's all good," she said.

I nodded. "Yeah, but this is _our_ trip, not mine, his, and you guys. It's okay, though. He flies out for work tonight, so it's just us girls," I told her.

She nodded. "That's cool. So, what are we doing tonight? Because I'm really feeling some Cirque Du Soleil, a few cocktails, maybe some blackjack…"

We agreed on the plans for the night and ate our breakfast, reminiscing on text conversations we'd had over the last two years of our friendship.

"You realize we're gonna have to do this like once a year or something now," I told her, "I'm gonna miss y'all way, way too much to go without seeing you."

Brandi laughed and nodded. "I was thinking about that, too," she said, "like, it just feels normal hanging with you. It's like we've known each other our whole lives. It's not uncomfortable or weird, and all we've ever done before now is text and talk online. We'd never even heard each other's voices."

That was how we knew we were true friends. Without ever speaking to one another on the phone or meeting in person, Brandi and I had a special bond like no other. I could talk to her about absolutely anything. When my ex and I split, she was my biggest support system. She knew exactly what to say to help me through everything I was feeling, even if no one else understood. We were from different worlds, truly. I'd met Chelsea online, too, on Tumblr through an Avenged Sevenfold fanpage. We both shared a love for Zacky Vengeance like no other. I laughed to myself thinking about it. God, those were the days. She and I weren't nearly as close and Brandi and I, but she was still our third musketeer, so-to –speak. They were my girls, and besides my sisters, they were my best and most trustworthy friends.

* * *

 _ **Hey…don't forget 2 watch the ppv 2nite. Big debut.** _

I read the text I had typed out to Mich over a couple of times. I normally just called, but the locker room was buzzing behind me and I couldn't really get away to call her.

"What's on your mind, brother?" my tag team partner, Joe, sat down next to me.

"Just texting that girl I was telling you about. You know, the one I met on the way home," I began explaining my dilemma, but Joe cut me off.

"Wait a minute. _You're_ texting someone?" he asked.

I nodded and continued my story. "Yeah, that's my problem," I explained, "does this sound dumb?" I showed him my phone and he responded with a shake of his head. Joe and I knew each other well from our days in FCW. He was a big Samoan guy, came from a long line of pro-wrestlers, but his lifelong dream had been football. Somehow he wound up here with me, and we'd become best friends. I knew if I could count on anyone to be honest with me, it was him. Colby, our third partner and 'leader' of the faction we were in, came over and sat on the bench next to us.

"You guys ready?" he asked. I nodded, but I wasn't a hundred percent sure that I was ready. I needed some fresh air, a cigarette, a shot of Jack Daniels, _something_. I looked at the clock on the wall and it seemed like every second took hours to pass by. I stood up and grabbed my bulletproof vest that was a part of my gimmick and slipped it over my head.

"Where you going?" Colby asked me.

"Outside. I'll be back. Don't worry, we've got time," I grabbed my phone and booked it out of the locker room. I unlocked it and stared at the text once more. I hit send, just in case she was at work and couldn't answer. I found a place in a corner where I could sit and brood alone before my match. _'_ _Come on Jon, get your shit together. You've got this, you were born for this.'_ I thought to myself, head in hands. The case I was sitting on vibrated as my phone went off. It was Mich.

 _ **I wouldn't miss it! Excited for you. How are you feeling?** _ she replied. I felt myself smile a little as I slowly typed a response.

 ** _Nervous. Don't u dare tell anyone._**

I could imagine her laugh at my response. I wondered what she was doing right then, what she was wearing. This girl was in my head and I just couldn't get her out. She had me in some kind of trance. Women never did that to me. I was notorious for being a hit it and quit it guy, and then here came this girl. She was perfect, short, curvy, funny, driven... Everything I didn't deserve. I was horrible to women and I knew it was only a matter of time before I broke her heart and I wasn't sure I could forgive myself if I did her wrong after what she'd been through.

 ** _Lol. Never. Have a good match sweetie. I'll let you get in your zone. Text me or call me later. I'll be watching._**

"Jon! Let's go, brotha," Joe called to me from down the hall. It was go time already. I walked to meet my teammates and handed my phone off to one of my good buddies for safe keeping until after the match.

"Just don't lose it," I told him, hurrying off to catch up with my teammates again.

"Nah dude, it's in safe hands," he assured me.

We were taken up to the concourse level of the arena by a slew of security guards and two cops. I chuckled to myself. We had a police escort and our gimmick was a police-type deal. We were supposed to be the "Hounds of Justice", bringing punishment to those who brought injustices to other wrestlers. We dressed in all black and we were to come through the crowd. Tonight, we were debuting live at Survivor Series during CM Punk's match, making sure he retained the title, and disappearing. I didn't honestly care if I made it past the night. My childhood dream had come true. I was a WWE superstar. The only thing that could have made the night better was…

"Go, go, go," Colby pushed me forward and we started down the steps. This was it. I was so nervous and all I could think of was Mich. I broke into a run and dove over the barricade. We began our attack on Ryback and before I knew it, it was over. We had officially made our debut. I was walking backwards into the crowd, watching the boys bring it home when I felt a hand wrap around my elbow. I jerked away on instinct, our characters were supposed to be heels and I had to sell it all the time. The crowd counted to three and I looked back at my partners knowing this was only the beginning.

Then it hit me.

 _'_ _Holy shit, dude. This is real. This is so fucking real. You were just on a WWE pay-per-view. You debuted at Survivor Series. Your life as you know it is over, Jon. You're gonna be famous.'_ I thought to myself.

"Hard camera," Joe said behind me as the camera crane came down and focused on us as we backed our way through the crowd. We sold to the camera a bit and it panned away.

I turned hard on my heels to finally make my exit from the crowd and nearly fell on my ass.

"No fucking way," I smirked.

"Hello Jon," Mich smiled at me.

"Meet me over there," I nodded toward the empty area where the guys sometimes stood and watched the show, hidden from the crowd,"I'll come get you."

Mich nodded and picked up her things. I hurriedly ran to the back and through the halls until I found my way to her. She was waiting patiently, her bag slung over her shoulder, arms folded. I ducked out and approached her, grabbing her hand.

"Come on, out of sight," I told her, pulling her to the back. We made our way through the curtain and past security before I pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her waist, hers around my shoulders. She had to stand on her tip toes to even reach that high on me. I smirked to myself. It was cute how little she was compared to me. She had to be at least an entire foot shorter than I was. She was different from most of the girls I dated, if you could call it that. I wasn't even sure what you could call us. We'd been calling and texting and sending photos for months now.

 _'Shit, my phone.'_ I thought. I hoped my buddy hadn't gone through my phone. There were pictures of Mich on there that were for my eyes only. If anyone else got their hands on them or the ones I sent to her in return, I was sure my push to the main roster would be taken away instantly.

I continued to pull Mich through the halls to an empty room.

"What are we doing?" she asked me.

"Just… Bringing you somewhere private," I told her, stroking her cheek with my thumb. I couldn't help but smile at her. She smiled back, nuzzling her cheek against my hand. "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked her. Mich shrugged.

"I wanted to see you. When I saw you in August you said you'd be coming up to TV the next month and it kept getting pushed back. I was going to come to whichever show your debut happened at regardless. I wanted to surprise you," she explained.

I sat down and pulled her into my lap. "It worked," I stroked her cheek again. She pressed her forehead to mine gently, her hands on either side of my face. I licked my lips, remembering how soft hers were. I leaned in to kiss her just as the door flew open.

"Fuck," I growled.

"Oh. My bad bro. I didn't realize you were busy," Colby said.

"Nah dude, it's cool. What's up?" I replied sourly.

"Is this your phone? I found it laying in the hall on a road case," he asked. Sure enough, the phone he was holding was mine.

 _'Fuck',_ I thought, 'A _nyone in the company could have gotten their hands on it and seen those pictures now.'_

Colby brought my phone over to me, a smirk on his face.

"What?" I spat at him.

"Who's this?" he asked, sitting backwards in a folding chair next to us. This kid was gonna drive me nuts if he didn't leave us the hell alone.

"I'm Mich," she extended her hand to him.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Colby. Jon's partner," he shook her hand, still smirking. Something told me he was up to no good. I'm not sure if it was the vibe he was giving off or that stupid little smirk, but I didn't like it. I wanted him out. I wanted alone time with Mich, there was no telling how much or how little we had before she had to go.

"Dude. Scram," I ordered him.

Colby shrugged and stood up. "I was just making conversation. You coming with me and Joe or what?" he asked, headed toward the door.

"I'll meet up with you later. Get out," I responded, pulling Mich closer as he made his exit. There was just something not right about his little visit with us.

"What was that about?" she asked me.

"Nothing. He's just being an ass. Now where were we?"


	3. Here?

***A/N***

Italics are Jon's texts. Bold are Jon's thoughts.

Italic underlined are Mich's texts.

I actually posted chapter two before I should have...should've made it all one chapter, but I didn't...here ya go. Enjoy smutty goodness ;)

xo

Mich smiled, leaning in closer and pressed her lips to mine. I couldn't help but let out a soft groan. I'd been craving this for months. My memory served her no justice. Her lips were so soft, like velvet or silk or one of those other expensive materials. She knew what to do with them too. She made her way from my mouth, up my jaw, and down my neck slowly. I hoped no one else decided just to walk in, especially one of my bosses, because there was very little stopping me from ravaging the girl on the floor of that locker room. After weeks of teasing me with photos and dirty text messages, we were finally alone. I ran my hands up her back underneath her shirt. I could feel her shiver. "Here?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"Why not?" I countered, locking my lips around a freckle on her chest. She whimpered softy, running her hands through my hair, took a shaky breath and titled my chin up so our eyes met. I smirked at her and kissed her chest again. "Fine," she whined. I chuckled and pushed my hands further up her back, unhooking her bra clumsily. She unhooked the buckles on my vest, yanked it off of me, and threw it to the side, followed by the black t-shirt I had on underneath it. I felt myself tense up. I wasn't sure how she was going to react to all the scars on my back. She ran her hands down my chest, and _my God,_ her hands were soft and warm against my skin. I relaxed a bit, still kissing on her chest, biting and sucking as I did. I wanted to mark her as mine; no one else's. "Jon," she whined, having trouble unhooking my belt. "Relax, darlin'," I told her, chuckling softly in her ear.

"This would be so much easier…not sitting in a chair," she said, scratching her nails down my arms. There was a couch across the room, not very big, but it would work. "Hold onto me," I instructed her. She wrapped her arms tightly around my shoulders and I stood, holding her by the ass cheeks and carried her over to the couch, tossing her on it gently. She looked up at me, her blue eyes traveling slowly from my waist to my own eyes. I probably looked like I was ready to devour her, and I'll be damned if she didn't look like she felt the same way looking at me. It had been a long time since I'd felt this way about a girl; like she was more than just a pretty face and a warm place to put my dick at night. There was something about her that just made me want more. I smirked to myself, unhooking my belt, slowly pulling it through each loop. God, I couldn't wait to get her out of those clothes. I'd only seen her naked in pictures. She was so insecure about herself and so hesitant to send me pictures of herself that weren't just regular selfies, or whatever they're called.

I chuckled to myself as I remembered the first time she and I had a sexual conversation. We were texting back and forth on a Saturday night. I was in California and she'd just gotten off of a long shift at work. We were just barely three or four weeks in to our texting relationship, still trying to get to know one another. Twenty questions had gotten stale, so I picked a new game for us to play.

 _Truth or dare, Jon? Really?_

 _Really, Mich…truth or dare?_

 _Dare._

I dropped my belt on the floor and slowly began unlacing my boots. Mich stared at me, whimpering and wriggling on the couch. She was getting impatient, I could tell, but I'd make it worth the wait. That I was sure of.

 _Jon?_ Mich had texted me, as I still hadn't replied.

 _I'm thinking, I'm thinking._

I dropped my right boot on the floor and began on the left.

 _Can I change my answer?_ She asked me. I remember laughing when I got the text. There was no way I was going to let her change her answer.

 _Nope._

Mich plead with me back and forth a few times to let her change her answer. It was like she knew what was coming.

"Jon, please," she plead aloud as I dropped my left boot to the floor. I smirked and shook my head. "It'll be worth the wait, baby girl. I promise," I unbuttoned my black cargo pants slowly. I got some kind of sick enjoyment out of watching her squirm in anticipation.

 _Fine…what's the dare?_

 _I dare you to send me a photo of you…right now. No makeup, just…exactly how you are right now._

 _Jon…I'm naked. I'm in the tub._

 _Even better._

 _You know I hate my body._

 _I'll love it for you. Come on. Show me yours, I'll show you mine._

 _You drive a hard bargain, Jon Good. Okay._

Before I dropped my own pants I gave hers a tug. "Off," I said, gruffly. She obliged, quickly, I might add, shimmying her jeans over her hips and down to her knees. I grabbed them by the ankles and yanked them the rest of the way off. I was anxious to see if photos did her any justice at all. What I liked about Mich the most was that she wasn't fake in any way. She wasn't like most of the girls I hooked up with, in fact, she was the total opposite. Most of the girls I found myself in bed with were thin girls, busty blondes with daddy issues, a craving for attention, or just straight up whores, let's be honest. They say men are attracted to women that remind them of their mothers, what can I say? But not Mich, no. She was curvy, with thick thighs and a great set of tits. Sure, she had a tummy on her, which was her biggest insecurity, but God, I thought she was the most beautiful thing. She had long, light brown hair that touched her ass when she'd let it down, bright blue eyes that matched mine, and freckles everywhere. Irish blood, she claimed. I believed it. Her skin was just a few shades darker than Sheamus, but just barely.

 _Fuck, you're so beautiful…_ I texted her after she sent the photo, finally.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," I told her, crawling over her, my hands running up her thighs. I kissed the insides of them gently, my hands resting on her hips. "So you've told me," she replied. Her entire body was trembling.

 _Your turn. Truth or dare?_

 _Truth._

 _Cheater. Do you really think I'm beautiful? And that's not my truth question. It's just a question. My truth question is…how big are you? I'm bad at this…_

Mich rubbed me through my boxer-briefs, her bottom lip in between her teeth. I groaned, feeling her soft, warm hands on me. I was anxious to be somewhere else soft and warm. I reached down and pushed her panties aside. Soft, warm, and wet; perfect. She closed her eyes, arching her back and pushing herself against my hand more.

 _How about I show you instead?_

Mich dipped her hand into my underwear and began softly stroking me. She didn't need to – I was already hard, but her hands felt like they were crafted for that very purpose.

 _…_ _.okay…show me…_

"Off," Mich commanded, pushing my underwear off. I'd already pulled hers off too, accidentally tearing them on one side. I made a mental note to buy her another pair. They looked like the expensive kind; like she'd bought them to wear just for me. She was as anxious to see what I was packing as I was to see what was hidden underneath those clothes. I removed my fingers from between her legs and brought them to my mouth, sucking them clean. "Jesus Christ, Jon," she whined loudly. I smirked and kissed her hard, tugging at her bottom lip with my teeth. She arched up again, a soft moan escaping her mouth. Her body was practically begging for more.

"Tell me what you want," I instructed her. She stroked me once more. "I want you inside of me. Now," she nipped at my earlobe. I growled and pushed her hand away, pushed her legs apart hastily and rubbed the tip of my cock against her entrance. She was so wet and eager for me. There was no time to think about protection. I slid into her slowly, both of us moaning and groaning with pleasure as I did. "Tight…fuck," I groaned, finally as far in as I could go. Mich hadn't been with many guys, in fact, I think her grand total, including me came to two. She was almost innocent, pure, wholesome…and there was something about her being all of those things that just made me want her even more. I almost wanted to corrupt her. She had a freaky side to her, she knew enough to know that much. She'd expressed several times her desire to be roughed up. I remembered one of her fantasies she'd told me about one night over the phone and ran my hand up her torso, between her breasts, and rested my fingers lightly around her throat. I didn't want to hurt her, especially being this was the first time anyone had done this to her. She gave me a nod and I tightened my fingers ever so slightly as I continued thrusting in and out of her. She was so wet I kept slipping out, losing my rhythm. She swiftly grabbed my dick, putting it back into her. I tightened my grip around her throat as she shook underneath me.

I was getting slow and sloppy, I could feel myself getting closer and closer. Sweat was beading on my face, dripping down onto her chest. I moved my hand from around her throat and held her hips tightly. I deepened my strokes and she got tighter as I did. The room was filled with grunts, and groans and moans and the sound of skin slapping skin. "Jon," she barely managed to whimper my name as she came. I growled and pulled her hard against me so I could feel her throbbing around me while I was still inside of her. "That's it baby. Cum for me," I ran my thumb across her lips and thrust into her hard. Fuck. That was it. There was barely time for me to pull out before I came the hardest I had in a while. I felt like fourteen year old me who had discovered if I positioned the antenna just right on my tv late at night I could get really grainy skinemax porn to come through. I panted, collapsing on top of her. She stroked my head gently, panting and shaking still.

"God…" Mich swallowed hard, having finally caught her breath. "Pretty much," I laughed, pushing myself off her, looking her over. We both needed a shower, but it would have to wait until we were settled in a hotel room. I was usually a drive straight through kinda guy, but with her around, I wanted as much time with her as possible. We were bound to be the last ones leaving the arena aside from security and the stage crew. The least I could do was wipe her down. "Stay here," I told her, picking up my black shirt and walking to the bathroom. It was all I had, and there were more in my bag. I wet the shirt with warm water and wrung it out before making my way back into the room where she was waiting, exactly where I'd left her.

I slowly began wiping the sticky mess off of her gently with the shirt until she was clean enough to pull her jeans back on. She picked up her bra and fastened it around herself, pulled on her t-shirt and slipped on her shoes quietly. I dressed myself quickly and quietly, wondering if I'd done something to upset her. Maybe she was just thinking. I seemed to be pretty A plus at fucking up relationships, but I didn't want to lose this one. If there was one thing I knew, it was that I really wanted this girl in my life. I slowly walked up behind her, rubbing her left hip with my hand. She smiled softly over her shoulder at me, her cheeks still flushed. "You okay?" I asked. She nodded, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "Tired?" I asked, taking her hand, lacing our fingers together. Mich nodded again. "Yeah. I have a room," she replied. "Let me just…grab my stuff…give me five minutes. How did you get here from the hotel?"

Mich told me she walked, explaining that the place was just across the street. I was certain the guys had already left by then, so I told her to hang tight and I'd walk with her. "If I can walk," she mumbled, blushing. I laughed and smacked her ass playfully, then placed a kiss on her cheek before walking out to get my things. I grabbed my luggage and pulled a shirt on, an old worn-out shirt from the indy promotion I worked for before my WWE days, and went back down the hall to find my girl. **_My girl._** I could really see myself being down for more than just sex with this one. She was more than a piece of ass. I shook my head at myself. I honestly never thought I could have any feelings for a girl that weren't strictly sexual and I damn sure didn't think I'd ever be willing to commit to a real relationship, but she had me totally convinced that I could. I was. I was completely willing to be exclusive to her as long as she was willing to do the same for me.

 _***end Jon POV***_


	4. Feeling

_Mich POV_

 _Italic Underlined is Mich's texts  
_ **Bold underlined text is Brandi  
** _Italics are internal thoughts._

Fuck me. What was I thinking?! I had just fucked Jon-in the locker room of this venue, with the door unlocked…with people around! The whole time I could hear people walking by, yelling and talking and laughing. I was just thankful no one had opened the door. I'm sure they heard us, though, we weren't shy about anything at all. _My fucking vagina hurts,_ I thought to myself. God, it was worth it though. As far as size went, Jon was above average, but he wasn't so big he'd rip you in half. He knew what he was doing, too, which was more than I could say for my ex. He never got me off on his own. Just looking at Jon could get me wet. Ugh, I had to stop thinking about this. My jeans would be soaked if I wasn't careful…since Jon ripped my panties yanking them off of me. I had bought them just for tonight, too, a little purple lacy cage-back number from my job. Expensive ass panties…ugh. _Okay, Mich…think of something else. Like…fuck, who are you kidding? All you can think about is his dick inside of you._ I whimpered aloud. I had to tell someone. I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Brandi.

 _B…I fucked him…_ **  
WHO?!  
** _Jon…  
_ **HAHAHAHA! Oh my GOD. YES GIRL! Fuck. How was it? How big was he? Where did this happen?! When did this happen? BISH I NEED DETAILS!**

I groaned and started typing a reply to Brandi just as the door open and Jon swaggered in, clad in blue jeans and a black wife beater. He smirked at me, his dimples showing. "Ready?" he asked. I licked my lips and looked him over, finally finding his eyes. He took a step closer and brushed my jawline with his thumb. "You okay?" he asked, tilting my face up so that our eyes met again. I nodded slowly, biting my lip. "You want more…" he stated, as if it were even a question. I nodded again. Jon slid my purse off of my shoulder, took my phone from my hand and sat them both on the couch. He backed me against the wall, undoing his belt. This one was going to have to be quick. I pushed my jeans off as he pushed his down on his hips. He was already – or still – hard. He quickly picked me up. "Legs around me," he commanded. I submitted to his orders, wrapping my legs around him as he pulled me down onto him, hard.

 **Mich…you getting dicked down again?! Girl…text me in the morning…lol. Get it girl. I want details for real. I need to know EVERYTHING.**

I yelped as he did, taking all of him as our pelvises collided. Fuck, that hurt _so good._ "Relax," he told me, smacking my right ass cheek hard as he thrust up into me. I moaned his name loudly. I could tell it was going to be a long night. I didn't know how many more times this was going to happen, I was sure one more wouldn't be enough. This was just a quickie to take the edge off. He was going to wear me out. I'd never been so horny in my life. I gripped him tighter as he slammed into me again. One more time and I was done for. I dug my black stiletto nails into the backs of his muscular, tanned arms and dragged them down hard. He growled, slamming me against the wall, thrusting harder. I gasped, startled by the force as I came again. I was growing tired, but at the same time, I wanted him to keep going. "Fuck," he groaned, gripping me tighter.

"C-cum…" I coaxed nervously.

Jon and I finished up quickly. He cleaned me up again and we walked across the street to the hotel together. The sexual tension between us was quite apparent. His hand kept grazing my ass and my mind was still stuck on feeling him inside of me. I was so fucked up over this; I hadn't felt this strongly for anyone since Mike…fuck Mike. He was such a piece of shit. He used me to get money, rides, medication, hell, I even paid his phone bill for him for a solid three months. And sex. He used me for sex. I swore men off after that. Thankfully Jon and Mike were nothing alike, but I couldn't help but feel somewhere deep inside of me that all men were the same, especially given that Jon had been brutally honest with me about his past with women. He hadn't been in a real relationship in years. His last girlfriend had cheated on him. She was in the same industry as him, but a valet. After her, he swore of dating women in the wrestling industry. No divas, no knockouts, no announcers. He told me occasionally he'd take one home after a drunken night at the bar, fuck her, and send her home doing the walk of shame the following morning.

Once upon a time I thought I was in love with Mike, and hell, maybe I was…but after a guy writes a song about how ugly and undesirable you are, you kind of lose that feeling. Falling for someone again terrified me. What if I was just another warm, wet spot for Jon to stick his dick? I shook it off, unlocked the room, and let myself and Jon inside. There was only one bed, a plush white king size smack dab in the middle of the room. The entire wall opposite the door was windows, overlooking the city of Indianapolis. It was beautiful at night, all the skyscrapers and tall buildings aglow. It was ice cold outside, so I was thankful for the heater in the room…and Jon. He was so warm. He had dropped his bag by the bed and was turning the covers down. God, I hoped he was down to cuddle. That's all I wanted. My vagina honest to God couldn't take much more of a pounding.

He smiled up at me and patted the bed. "Come on. You look beat," he told me. I sighed a deep sigh of relief. "I am," I replied, pulling off my boots and jacket, finally. I shivered, my feet were soaked to the bone from the melted puddles of ice, snow, and mush on the street between the hotel and the arena. I dug in my bag for a pair of clean socks and pajamas. I yanked the blinds closed and slowly began undressing and redressing quickly. The faster I could get into that bed and get warm, the better. My Texas-loving ass was not cut out for the cold. Apparently neither was Jon, he'd migrated from Cincinatti to Vegas, with a few stops in between. Fuck the cold. Jon was already in the bed when I turned around, in nothing but a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt, his right arm tucked behind his head, left one laid out to the side of him. I crawled in bed slowly. What was I supposed to do? It had been so long since I'd done anything like this. "Come on, don't be shy," he coaxed. I cuddled up to him, feeling the warmth of his body instantly radiating onto me. _Fuck yes,_ I thought, _warm cuddles._

Jon tightened his arms around me and I couldn't help but notice how the muscles in his arms rippled when he did. I smiled softly and placed a kiss on his chin. "Goodnight, darlin'," Jon said. His voice was so gravely and yet, at the same time, soothing. He rubbed my lower back in soft circles and I let out a soft groan. "God, that feels good," I said into his chest. John chuckled softly, continuing the gentle rubbing, moving his hands lower and giving my ass cheek a light squeeze. I didn't mind it, really, but there was no way I could go for round three at that point. It was almost as if he read my mind, because his hands drifted back upward, still rubbing gently at my back. He took a deep breath and I could almost hear the gears turning in his head. He was thinking. Feeling.

"Hey Mich," he finally spoke a few moments later. Internally, I was shaking like a Chihuahua. What on earth was he going to say? "Hmm?" I looked up at him. He had the most gorgeous blue eyes I'd ever seen. I could have honestly stared into them for hours. He licked his lips and took another deep breath.

"So, I wanna talk to you about something," he stated. I rubbed his chest gently. "Go on," I replied. _This is going to get really awkward, really fast,_ I thought. "I like you. You know that. But, like…I don't normally…do these kinds of things. I'm not a PDA, cuddly teddy bear, cookie cutter boyfriend type. I'm an asshole. I use women for sex and throw them out the next morning," Jon rambled on, things he'd already told me before, "but…"

He stopped and took another breath. "But?" I asked, hesitantly.

"I don't want you to think I'm perfect, Mich. I don't want you to get this idea in your head that I'm always going to be this guy. I'm probably never going to remember the anniversary of when we met. I'm never gonna remember your birthday. Hell, I rarely remember my own. I don't normally send girls flowers or chocolates or buy them teddy bears and shit. That's not me. I'm gonna be on the road three hundred days out of the year. I want you to know this isn't going to be a normal relationship. I've never…had a _real_ relationship. Not a decent one where we were faithful to one another. You make me want to be that guy that opens doors and shit for his girl. Like…I don't know, I suck at this, " he threw his hands up, defeated.

I smiled and kissed his cheek softly. "You do not suck at this. And as far as not having a real relationship…I'm right there with you. I've never even been on a real date. I've always just…hung out with my boyfriend or the guy I'm talking to at home or at a sports bar or whatever. It's never been a real date, like where we go out to a nice dinner and a movie or anything. Never. So we're in the same boat. And you don't have to send me cards and flowers and candy and shit. Just send me a text that says good morning. Just like you do every single day. That's all I need to know you're thinking of me. You may not be a typical boyfriend…but I'm not a typical girlfriend. So it's okay. Don't stress. This is new for both of us," I told him, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He smirked at me. There were those dimples I loved so much. I rubbed his cheeks gently.

"You called me your boyfriend," he said. I felt my cheeks go hot. "You said it first," I defended. He laughed, cupped my chin in his hand, and kissed me deeply. God, I loved his lips. They were so soft and they fit perfectly with mine. His facial hair was starting to grow back in, rough and scratchy against my hands that were situated still on either side of his face –that perfect fucking face. His tongue grazed my bottom lip, which he pulled between his teeth. I pulled away, shaking my head. "No, no. I know where this is going," I said, kissing his chin again.

"I think I've worn you out enough, don't you?" Jon chuckled and kissed me again, softer this time.

"No kidding," I giggled. I laid there, quiet, my own wheels turning in my head, thinking. Feeling. There was something so special about Jon that made me want to drop everything and move to Vegas to be with him. I wanted to be there when he came in on his off days, waiting to jump his bones when he walked in the door. I wanted to make him breakfast and watch his matches on TV in his apartment. I wanted to ride the Vegas strip in that big ass black Bronco of his that smelled like leather and sweat. He literally made me want to be the typical girlfriend that you see in all of those dumb romantic comedies. At the same time I wanted to fight it. I didn't want my heart to fucking pound out of my chest when I saw him. I didn't want to deal with my face hurting at the end of the day from how much I'd smiled because of things he would text to me. I didn't want to look forward to good morning texts and good night phone calls. I didn't want to fall in love with him, but I was, I could feel it, and it fucking terrified me. It helped knowing he was scared, too. I could see it on his face and hear it in his voice when he talked about how he wasn't the typical boyfriend. He was terrified to fuck it up, just like, according to him – everything else he'd ever done in life. He'd been so broken down and torn apart. I wanted to fix it. _Fuck, feelings are so fucking confusing. I want to fall in love with him and fix him but I'm fucking terrified at the same time. This is so stupid and I hate it, I hate it, I hate it,_ I thought to myself. I felt a soft rise and fall beneath my head. Jon had fallen asleep at some point of me getting lost in my thoughts.

I reached over and turned off the lamp above our bed before taking off my glasses and cuddling back up to my boyfriend. _My boyfriend_. That phrase alone was terrifying. I drew a deep breath and snuggled down deep into the covers. Jon tightened his arms around me, but his eyes didn't open. His breathing remained nice and even. He was still asleep, thank goodness. I didn't want to disturb him. He always told me how he never slept. He looked so peaceful, beautiful even. I smiled to myself and placed a gentle kiss on his nose before closing my own eyes and drifting off to sleep.


	5. Darkness

I woke in the early hours of the morning, it couldn't have been any later than 4 am, and I felt like someone had hollowed me out with a spoon. I was a shell of myself, and why? Was it that dream I'd just had? I couldn't remember it clearly. It was mostly a fog, but I was sitting at a table in a restaurant with a handful of friends and they were all trying to cheer me up because I was single. Jon had left me. That's why I felt empty. _It's only a dream,_ I told myself. Somehow I'd escaped Jon's grasp in the night and rolled to the edge of the bed. The covers were all on top of me, almost like they'd been thrown on me. This bed was huge, there were miles between Jon and I.

I turned over onto my right side to look at him, but he was gone. It wasn't a dream. I felt my heart rate increase and my breathing eradicate. _Don't do this, Mich. Don't freak out._ I threw the cover off of me. I was burning up. Just as my lashes became wet with tears, light flooded the room momentarily and then it was gone again. He hadn't left, not permanently. He'd just left the room.

"Jon," I spoke his name softly, hoping he wouldn't notice the panic in my voice. He flipped on the bathroom light, and I was thankful. It was dim enough maybe he wouldn't see that I'd began to cry. We'd only been together a short amount of time. I didn't want him having to deal with my mental breakdowns just yet.

"What's the matter darlin'?" Jon asked. He laid something on the dresser. It looked shiny, probably packs of hotel coffee. He was a coffee man, black coffee, as strong and bitter as you could get it. He crawled back into bed and pulled me close to him. He was so strong. I felt safe, no longer empty. "Bad dream," I replied, trying to hold back tears again. Jon stroked my hair softly. "Am I doing this right?" he asked me after a few moments of silence. I laughed softly and nodded. For someone who didn't do relationships, he was doing just fine.

"You wanna talk about it?" Jon asked. I shook my head. I really just wanted to go back to sleep, but I was certain he was awake for the day now. "Go back to sleep," he kissed my head, rubbing my back softly again. "Will you be here when I wake up?" I asked. "I'm not going anywhere, baby. I'll be right here," he promised in his gravelly voice. I drew a deep, ragged breath and let it out before closing my eyes and drifting back off to sleep.

I woke again a few hours later to the bedside table vibrating fiercely. One of our phones was ringing. Jon was back asleep himself, snoring ever so slightly. I laughed to myself and turned over to grab the phone that was ringing. It was mine, work calling. I groaned, why could I never escape them? I silenced the call, laying the phone back on the table. Jon was still soundly asleep, but I was rested enough I could start the day. I gently escaped his grasp so I wouldn't disturb him and sat up on the side of the bed, stretching.

I picked up my phone and made my way to the bathroom, thankfully not in complete darkness, or I would've fallen over Jon's clothes and his suitcase that were littering the walkway. After I used the restroom and washed my hands, I looked myself over in the mirror, something I normally didn't do. I normally avoided mirrors at all costs. What the hell did Jon see in me? I wasn't pretty, at least not to me. He could do so much better. I was fat. I had a horrible face. The only things I liked about myself were my hair and my boobs, and I only liked those on certain days. I looked better when I wasn't lazy and tried to dress semi-cute or when I'd put on a little makeup. _Maybe that's what I should do, put on some makeup,_ I thought. I walked out into the room trying to be as quiet as possible.

"Good morning," Jon startled me when he spoke. His sleepy voice was so damn attractive. "Hi," I replied. "Not trying to sneak out on me are ya? Not gonna run away and never speak to me again? Change your number and name?" he asked. Part of me wasn't sure that he hadn't been done that way before. "I was actually just looking for my makeup bag," I told him. "Forget about it. You don't need it," he patted the bed and I sighed, but sat down next to him. He took my hand in his and gently kissed across my knuckles.

"You're sweet," I told him. "I'm trying. I don't know what the hell I'm doing, but I'm trying," he replied, shrugging. I nodded, not really sure what to say. He was trying, that was undeniable. I was just so terrified deep down in my gut that I was going to run him off by being the bi-polar, manic depressive, clingy, over-emotional Libra girl that I was. I must have gotten quiet for quite some time because Jon had to wave his hand in front of my face to get my attention. "What are you thinking so hard about?" he asked.

"I'm scared," I finally admitted, my voice quiet. Jon cupped my chin in his hand, rubbing his thumb softly down my jaw. "I am too. But here's the beauty of this situation. We can learn together. I'm not going anywhere. Are you?" he asked. I shook my head without hesitation. I wanted this. I wanted it badly, but I was so fucking terrified. "I want this to work," Jon said, still holding my chin. I nodded this time, my lashes wet with tears again. I let him see this time.

"Don't cry. Come here," he pulled me on top of him and wrapped his arms around me tightly, placing a soft kiss on my head. "I'm just scared you're going to see the dark side of me and you're not going to want me anymore," I cried into his chest softly. This was the true test. If he could deal with this, he could deal with anything. "Baby…do you know who you're talking to?" Jon asked, chuckling slightly, "you're perfect. Darkness and all. It's gonna take a whole lot more than a bi-polar mood swing and some low self esteem to run me off. Now stop crying. Don't mess that pretty little face of yours up."

Jon and I laid in bed a while longer, silent, but content. When we finally got up, he made himself a pot of coffee, downed the whole thing in about ten minutes, and started packing his things. I didn't want to say goodbye. I wondered how much trouble it would be for him to get me into the next show. I could call out of work. No, I couldn't. I couldn't afford to miss work. "You're thinking again," he grazed my lower back with his fingertips, sending a shiver up my spine.

"I just…I'm not ready for this to be over. I don't want to tell you goodbye yet," I replied.

"So don't. Come with me to Raw tonight. Then you can come to Smackdown tomorrow and I'll fly you home Wednesday. You got a return flight?" he asked me. I nodded. "Call and change it," he told me. I smiled softly and stood on my toes to kiss his cheek. "I wish. I have to get back to work," I told him. He frowned, but nodded. "I understand. One day you won't have to work," he bumped my chin softly and gave me a smile. "Think you can take me to the airport?" I asked him. "Yeah. I've gotta head that way anyway. Come on," Jon picked up my bags and slung them over his shoulder with his own.

Our goodbye was short, and I was thankful. I don't know how I would have dealt with a long one. Jon had to get to the next town and it was starting to snow again. He kissed me goodbye and told me to call when I landed. He told me if there was too long of a delay, he'd come back and get me.

Sadly, Dallas was 80 and sunny but I made it home just in time to catch my new boyfriend on TV before I had to go to bed. I thought a lot about the weekend I'd just had. I flew across the country to see a guy that I mostly only knew over the phone to be with him for a day. We'd had some amazing sex and shared some great laughs and he'd told me some outrageous, absolutely unbelievable stories – and I was falling for him. I was absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, falling in love with Jonathan Good.

I woke the next morning to a text, three phone calls, and a voicemail from my district manager screaming at me to get to the store right then. My regional manager was on his way and my store needed to be perfect. Of course, I hadn't been in the business in two days, so I had no idea what kind of condition my store was in. I typed a quick text to my friends who had texted me in the middle of the night and replied to Jon, who'd texted me just a few minutes before. I was so thankful he was awake. Just talking to him set me at ease.

 **Good morning beautiful.**

 _Not good at all. But hi. Fuck. I wish I was still with you. I'm probably getting fired._

 **Why? That's bullshit. You haven't even been there.**

 _I know. I'm just so fed up with this place. I hate it._

 **Well don't quit just yet. Take it in stride baby. You got this. Trust me?**

 _I trust you. Thanks babe. I've gotta go get ready. I'll talk to you tonight?_

 **Sure thing.**

God, he was borderline perfection. I threw on a dress and shoes, applied a little eyeliner and mascara, and hopped in my car. I sped to work, quite literally, and made it there in record time. My distract manager wasn't even there yet – but she arrived soon after me and we both panicked. The store was trashed, it was like the people who worked under me didn't do anything the two days I was gone. I immediately started crying. I wanted so badly just to hand my keys to my district manager and walk out.

Just as I was about to, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I sniffled and wiped my eyes before pulling it out. I couldn't help but smile a bit. Jon had sent me a photo of himself. I couldn't help but giggle at how he was dressed – in black slacks and an oversized collared shirt. They were required to dress in 'business casual' wear outside of the ring, some crazy idea his boss had. He told me it would die off in a few weeks, but for the time being, he was borrowing dress shirts from his teammate, who was twice the size of him when it came to muscles.

 _Cute,_ I texted him.  
 **Why do I feel like you're laughing at me?  
** _I am not…lol…maybe a little. But I needed to laugh. My store is a disaster and I'm definitely in major trouble…even though I haven't been here. So thank you for that.  
_ **Still say it's bullshit…but you're welcome.**

 _It is. So can I call you when I get fired in an hour?  
_ **Yeah of course. I'm here for you and shit.**

I laughed to myself and shook my head. My happiness was instantly sucked right out of me again, though. My regional manager knocked on the door just as I slid my phone back into my pocket. This was it – I was toast. Burnt toast. I'm not talking about the kind that's edible with a little scraping and a ton of jelly, either. I mean toast that is burnt beyond recognition, black soot that's in the shape of a piece of bread.

To make a long story short, I wasn't fired. I was chewed out beyond belief, but because I hadn't been there for two days, I was given a warning and allowed to go home early by my district manager. She was slightly more forgiving and kept apologizing for how much of an asshole her boss was. I needed to find something else. As soon as I got home, I searched and searched for a new job. This place was going to be the death of me and I needed out. I looked at the clock. 4:45. Jon should still be able to talk. God, I hoped he was. I hit send on his number in my contacts and waited for him to answer. The day was weighing on me and I needed to hear him. "Hey darlin'," Jon answered.

"Hi," I said.

"You sound down…" Jon replied. I laughed slightly, my eyes welling up with tears.

"I'm just overwhelmed. I'm stressed out. I don't want to work at this stupid place anymore. So I'm looking for another job," I replied and wiped at my eyes again. I was so tired of crying. I wished beyond wished that I could just go back and stay when Jon asked me to. I wished I could just quit, but I couldn't. I had to pay bills.

"You'll find something," he assured me. I hoped he was right. I missed the days when I loved my job, when it didn't stress me out so much. I wished I could just be one of those stupid designer bag-carrying girlfriends who didn't do shit and lived off of their boyfriends, but I couldn't. There was no way I could ever take advantage of Jon. I didn't want his money or anything. I just wanted him.

"Fuck me…" I sighed. Jon laughed. "If that's what you want," he said. "Not what I meant…I mean…I do, but…I totally forgot I was supposed to go to my sister's tonight," I told him. God, I hoped she wouldn't be mad. I'd had such a shitty day, that was the last thing I needed. "Go. I'll call you later. I need to get ready for the show anyway. Go," Jon and I hung up with one another and I rolled out of bed. I wasn't going to bother getting dressed up. I'd already changed into yoga pants and a t-shirt. I grabbed my phone, keys, and wallet and headed to my car. Just as I got in, my sister texted me that she'd gotten called into work and needed a rain check. _Perfect, as if I needed another excuse to go climb into bed,_ I thought.

Weeks passed by with no leads on a new job. Jon and I communicated daily, but only because he put in the effort. I felt like a shitty girlfriend, but I was so depressed that I didn't want to deal with the outside world at all. I honestly couldn't tell you how I got to work some days. I knew I was there, and my car was in the lot, but I couldn't recall getting out of bed and driving there to save my life. I was in a haze. All I wanted was pizza and cuddles, and I was broke as shit and Jon was God knows where. I'd been texting him all day and whining about how shitty my life was. He just took it in stride. He was perfect, and I didn't feel like I deserved him, at all.

 **Give me your address. I'm gonna order you a pizza.**  
 _Are you sure?_  
 **Mich, just give me your damn address. What kind do you want?  
** _Pepperoni and jalapenos…with extra cheese. Thin crust. Please. Thank you. You're amazing. 5432 E I-30 Apartment 987, Dallas Texas 75228._

 **Thank you.**

Jon texted me back with an estimated arrival time of the pizza and told me he'd text me again in a bit once he got settled on his plane and connected to wi-fi. I cuddled up to my pillow waiting for the doorbell to ring. I wanted so badly to tell Jon that I loved him, but I didn't exactly want to be the first to say it. I was scared it would run him off or make him think that I was too clingy. We'd only been together officially for a month and a half. How long did it normally take couples to drop the L word anyway?

 **Is your pizza there yet?**

Jon texted me just as the doorbell rang.

 _Creepy that you ask that right now. The doorbell literally just rang,_ I replied, rolling out of bed. I exited my room and made my way down the hall as the bell rang again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I yelled. The pizza guy knocked. I was getting agitated. I unlocked all three locks on my door and yanked the door open as the bell rang again. "I said…" I stopped, unable to form words. What was standing in my doorway was not a pizza delivery guy. What was in my doorway had shaggy blonde hair, the most gorgeous blue eyes, and a shit-eating grin that made the dimples in his cheeks show. He had a fist full of flowers he'd obviously picked up in an airport or a supermarket in one hand and a suitcase in the other.

"Well, are you gonna let me in or do I have to stand out here all night?"


	6. Thinking

I couldn't believe Jon was standing in front of me. Seeing him was honestly the last thing I expected. I was in complete shock. He smiled at me again. "Baby, you okay?" he asked, taking a step toward me. I nodded and reached up to touch his face, just to make sure he was real. His face was scruffy from being on the road for a week. I didn't mind. The stubble didn't bother me. He looked so rugged and manly with it. I didn't even care if it scratched my face when he kissed me.

"I'm real, in case that's what you're wondering," he said, cupping my chin in one of his hands. He kissed me softly, rubbing my chin with his thumb as he pulled away. "What are you doing here? And where's my pizza?" I asked. He chuckled, handed me the bouquet of flowers wrapped in cellophane, and pulled his suitcase inside, shutting the door behind him.

"I wanted to see you smile. And I have other plans for dinner than pizza. I mean, if you'd rather have the pizza, I can catch a flight, but…" he started for the door. "No!" I said, pulling him back to me. Jon smiled and kissed my head. "Come on," he took the flowers from me and laid them on my table. "Go get a shower. Put on something nice, and let me take you out. You've been cooped up in this apartment for days. You need to get out. You'll go stir crazy," he told me.

I laughed slightly. "I'm already going nuts," I told him, "but okay. God. I'm so happy to see you." I touched his face again. It still hadn't set in that he was really there. "You've got me for three days," he said.

"Three days," I repeated, "well…I guess now would be a perfect time for you to meet my family. I have two sisters who you need to meet, since you've already met my friends." Jon patted my cheek. "We'll discuss that later. Go get ready. We've got somewhere to be at 8," he said, pushing me toward the bathroom. I wondered where he could be taking me. What did I need to wear? He said something nice, but to him, nice was a button down and jeans without holes in them. I decided somewhere between washing and conditioning that I had a cute dress in my closet I could wear. It was a black vintage swing dress with a sweetheart neckline and white polka dots on the bodice. I could easily put my hair in a quick up-do, throw on some pearls, do a winged liner and red lip and be done. It wouldn't even take me half an hour to get ready.

I wondered how he'd react to seeing me that way. He'd only seen me in jeans and a t-shirt, or at the most, a casual little sundress I'd wear to work. He'd never seen me dolled up. I turned the water off and climbed out of the shower. Jon had stuck my flowers in a plastic cup and set them on the bathroom counter. I smiled and wrapped a towel around myself. For the first time in weeks, I felt alive. It's funny how one single human being can do that to you. I dried myself off and readied myself as quickly as I could. I slipped on a pair of red flats to match my lips and the flower I'd decided to clip into my hair and walked out of the bedroom.

"Jon?" I called. He sat up on the couch, looking half asleep. I smiled nervously. "Damn. You look…damn," he rubbed his eyes. He had to be exhausted. I knew he'd just done a weeklong run without a break. He worked so hard, and for him to come see me to simply make me smile meant a lot. It just made me fall harder for him than I already had. "Ready?" I asked. He nodded and stood and I saw that he had changed. He had on a pair of black jeans and a black button down, with black cowboy boots and a silver belt buckle on. His shirt was wrinkled from his time lying on the couch, but my God, he looked nice. We matched well, even. I smiled, smoothing out his shirt. "You ready?" he asked me. I nodded. "Let's roll, then, darlin'," he replied. I went back to the bedroom to grab my purse and keys. Jon waited by the front door for me patiently.

"Let me drive," he held out his hand for the keys. I laid them in his hand and he shoved them in his pocket before holding out his hand again. This was new. We were venturing out in public and he was willing to show affection. I placed my hand in his. He laced our fingers together and kissed my hand softly before leading me out of the apartment and to my car. "Thank you," I said as he held the car door open for me.

"Anytime, beautiful," he answered. He kissed my forehead softly and shut the door after I got in and situated. I watched his every move as he walked in front of the car to the driver's side and got in. He fastened his seatbelt and pulled out of the apartment complex before either of us spoke again.

"So may I ask where we're going?" I asked him. He smiled over at me. "It's a surprise, much like the rest of this whole thing has been. Were you surprised? I didn't give it away did I?" he asked. I smiled and shook my head.

"Not at all. You did really great, actually. I'm really happy you're here," I bit my lip before continuing, "I missed you."

Jon grabbed my hand and kissed it softly again in response. He wasn't very verbally affectionate. I wasn't upset about it. I was thankful for the kisses and hand holding I was getting from him that night. I went silent, unable to think of much else to say when Jon spoke.

"So, uh…you said you'd never been on a real date. Like a fancy dinner date or something," Jon stated.

"Never," I replied.  
"Tonight that's changing," he said.

I had a feeling that might have been what was going on. It made me smile that he listened and paid that much attention to something I'd told him weeks before, and that he wanted to change that. I wondered if maybe he was falling, too. I couldn't help but stare at him. It wasn't quite dark in Texas, yet, but the sun was setting, casting this light on his face that can't be described with words. He was just so damned beautiful to me, from the curly blonde hair on his head, to his beautiful blue eyes, his perfect lips – I honestly can say I loved every feature he had. I loved how his voice sounded at all hours of the day – at two in the morning when he called to tell me goodnight, or at 9 am when he called to wake me up and tell me I could face the day. He was constantly encouraging me to fight the battle against myself. He told me that my life was worth living and that his wouldn't have been the same if I hadn't come around, that I had changed his life for the better; and I believed him.

"This is it," Jon said, turning into a parking lot. We were at Reunion Tower, a Dallas landmark. It was a sphere shaped building on a huge pedestal that overlooked the city – one of the most prestigious five-star restaurants lived inside of it – owned by Wolfgang Puck. It also housed a hotel and observatory. It was one of the most romantic and expensive places in Dallas. "Here?" I asked. "Yep. Come on," he said, exiting the car and coming around to my side. He opened the door for me and helped me out of the car, shutting and locking the doors behind us. We rode the elevator up to the restaurant. It was darkly lit, and full of couples dining on fine cuisine, sipping wine and champagne, dressed to the nines. I felt underdressed, and I'm sure Jon did too.

"May we help you?" a little old man clad in a tuxedo asked Jon. He had a white napkin draped over his arm. God, this place was formal. Too formal for us, I was afraid. "Yeah, two please," Jon said. Oh dear. This was not going to end well. "Do you have reservations?" the man asked Jon. "No? You need reservations?" Jon retaliated. "Yes sir, you do. Would you like to make reservations for another night? We're booked through this week, but I'm sure we could get you in next Monday," the man pulled out a thick black binder. "I have to work on Monday. You can't just squeeze us in tonight?" Jon asked. "No, sir, we cannot," the man replied. He seemed astounded that Jon would ask such a thing.

"Jon, baby. Let's just go. Come on. It's okay," I pulled on his arm. There was no point in arguing with the little old man anymore. I was afraid Jon was just going to haul off and deck the old guy. He huffed a bit, muttering to himself, but he finally followed me back to the elevator. He was silent for the first few floors, but he pulled me close and stroked my cheek softly. "I'm sorry. I'm such a fuck up. I should've known better," he said. I could tell he felt horrible about our date falling through. I held his face in my hands and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. "You are not a fuck up. You didn't know. Okay? It's okay," I said, kissing him again. My red lipstick was now on his lips. I laughed softly and wiped at his lips with my thumb.

"Not my color?" he asked, giving a slight smile. "Not really," I laughed again. Jon sighed heavily as the elevator opened. He pulled me out gently by the hand and we walked quietly to the car. The night air was a little cold, but not frigid. The moon was shining brightly and accompanied by the city lights, we could have walked anywhere safely. I wrapped my arms around Jon's waist and laid my head on his chest to warm myself a bit.

"Wanna get a pizza?" he asked, rubbing my back. "Actually, I know a place not far from here…is that okay with you?" I asked. He nodded. "Anything that doesn't need reservations," he replied. I couldn't help but giggle a little bit. At least we could joke about the situation. He seemed to be calming down a bit now, not quite as angry about the date not going according to plan. I was just happy to have him with me. I wanted so badly to tell him that he was such a source of happiness for me, that he made me feel like my heart was full of joy and happiness and that when he was around me, nothing in the world could go wrong. I felt safe and secure, wanted, needed….I felt loved. My friends gave me those feelings too, but in a different sense. He was like a warm blanket on a cold night, hot chocolate with the right amount of marshmallows, the smoothest whiskey; he was honest to God the missing piece for me. He filled a void I never even knew I had. My God, he was fucking perfect.

I wanted to tell him all of this, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. The last time I had told anyone how I felt about them it had backfired so badly I didn't date for five years. I knew Jon wouldn't be like Mike. He wouldn't go off and tell his friends how desperate and pathetic I was. He wouldn't go write a song about how fat and ugly I was and play it in front of me. He wasn't that kind of guy, no. I hadn't even told him the whole story about Mike, or that we still talked from time to time. I was a masochist in that way; though since Jon had come into my life, I'd put everyone on the back burner except my two best friends and my sisters, and that made Mike angry. I'd received several Facebook messages and texts from him asking why the hell I was acting like he didn't exist, but I just ignored him. I didn't need him dragging me down.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Jon asked me. I snapped out of the trance I was in and looked up at him. "Sorry. Just…thinking about you. Us. This," I said, looking around. Somehow we'd made it halfway to the pizza joint. Jon nodded, but didn't speak. He was holding my hand tightly, our fingers laced. I smiled to myself softly. He was holding my hand in public again. All I'd heard from him was how he wasn't one for public displays of affection at all. He didn't like to put his relationships out in the open. He said it wasn't that he was ashamed – he was protective. He knew how crazy girls could be. He wanted to protect what was his. He didn't want any name calling or hatred spewed at his girlfriend. Everywhere he went someone knew who he was, and all it took was one person to see him with a girl and bam, the wrestling tabloids would pick up on it and he'd be all over the internet the next day. He didn't want that for me, for us. He wanted us to be able to enjoy one another's company privately, to be able to have a real relationship without hundreds of thousands of other people involved, and I respected that.

We rounded the corner to the pizza shop and made our way inside. It was warm and toasty in there from the fire of the pizza ovens. The lighting was dim, but cozy, the booths and tables appropriately sized for the large pizzas they served, the biggest I've ever seen. A slice was over a foot long, and nearly as big across. We slid into a corner booth by the window and were soon greeted by a server who took our order and scurried away, leaving us alone again. The place was abuzz with chatter from the other customers, but nothing loud and obnoxious. I didn't want to tell Jon, but this was way better than any fancy five-star meal to me. He reached across the table and took my hands into his, just holding them in his, not speaking. We didn't have to speak in one another's presence, it seemed. Just existing close to one another was enough for us.

Don't get me wrong, I loved hearing him speak – all the years of yelling at other wrestlers, fans, throwing back whiskey sours, smoking, and cutting promos had made his voice raspy. It was somehow soothing. He had this cute Ohio accent, even though he swore he had a twang from growing up so close to the Kentucky state line, I never heard it. We were from such different worlds, but our worlds fit so perfectly together. I smiled, rubbing my thumbs across his to grab his attention. He'd gotten caught up in staring outside. He looked at me with his blue eyes and I felt my heart lurch. _Just say it, Mich,_ I told myself, _just tell him you love him._


	7. Date Night

I could tell by the way Mich looked at me that there was something she was dying to say. She was thinking hard. I could tell by the way her brows furrowed, creating a wrinkle above her nose and how silent she was. She'd stare at me, with her blue eyes, the words forming on the tip of her tongue, but she'd never open her mouth. To be honest, I was terrified of what she was going to say. What if it was that she appreciated all I was doing for her, but it just wasn't enough? What if she couldn't handle me being away all the time? She'd been so down and depressed lately I was scared for her well being. I wanted to be there for her constantly, to tell her how much I adored every little thing about her, but I couldn't. I knew that had to be hard on her. She deserved so much better, but at the same time, I didn't want anyone else to have her. I wanted her all to myself. She was mine and I wanted it to stay that way. I'd do anything I could to keep her around.

While we ate, I found myself staring at her thinking to myself how everything about her was beautiful; from her dirty blonde hair that was always up in this messy bun-thing on top of her head, her blue eyes that matched mine, the thousands and thousands of freckles that decorated her delicate pale skin. I'd finally come to terms with the fact that she was more than likely the one; hell, I could even give you reasons why. I loved how she smelled; like jasmine and fresh peaches. I loved how her brows furrowed when she was thinking and how the apples of her cheeks turned pink when I would catch her looking at me. I loved how her hands felt in mine; so small, warm, and soft. And when our fingers were laced together, it was like the spaces between my fingers were molded to hold hers. Her laugh is intoxicating; full, but feminine. I wanted to make her laugh all the time just so I could see her smile; even if she hated it. And my God, her voice alone was enough to turn me on; especially when she was half asleep. The way she answered the phone with "Hi baby" every single morning and every single night in that sweet southern twang made me want to fly to Dallas twice a day and wake her up and put her to bed properly. That just wasn't possible though… At least not yet. I was scared to run her off by asking her to come on the road with me so I could see her every day. I was more scared to admit out loud that I was falling in love with her. It had been hard enough to admit to myself that I'd let myself get soft and fall in love for the first time in my life.

"Jon," Mich said my name softly, her accent adding an extra syllable in the middle.

I looked into her eyes to show I was paying attention to her as she spoke.

"You done?" she asked.

We'd both stopped eating long ago, and we'd just been sitting in silence. The place was nearly empty. I looked down at my watch and saw it was nearly midnight. I nodded and laid a twenty on the table to pay for our food and cover the tip and slid out of the booth, extending my hand to my lady to help her out.

"Thank you, my love," she said.

Her _love._ I kissed her forehead and pulled her close to me as we exited the restaurant and made our way down the sidewalk toward where we had left her car. It had gotten colder in the time we'd been inside the restaurant, the kind of cold that left your eyes watering and your nose running. We picked up our pace, walking against the wind. We had just rounded the last corner when I felt something cold and wet hit my face. It was snowing. While I'd grown up around it for most of my life, Mich hadn't seen much of it. When she got winter weather, it was usually just ice and sleet that stuck to the roads and kept her home from work, not real snow.

"Jon, it's snowing," she stopped in her tracks, holding out her hand.

The snow melted on contact with her warm palms, but the tiny white flakes stuck to her black coat and to her hair. She looked beautiful in the glow of the streetlights, pure childlike joy and wonder pulling her lips into a perfect smile, her eyes wide. She smiled up at me and touched my face gently with the back of her hand.

"This is the perfect end to tonight. This has been the most wonderful first date ever. I'm so happy you came to see me," she said.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me softly, pulling back just enough so that her lips lingered over mine for a second before she kissed me again. I placed my hands at the small of her back, pulling her closer, kissing her fully. Her hands wrapped around the back of my neck, her teeth gently pulling my bottom lip in as she continued to kiss me there on the sidewalk. I heard myself let out a soft growl and I pulled away, gingerly kissing her a few more times.

"Don't tease me," I whispered, kissing up her jaw. I nipped her earlobe softly and nuzzled her cheek with mine.

She giggled softly and rubbed the back of my neck. "Sorry. Come on. Let's get in the car. I'm freezing," she took my hand again and pulled me across the street to her car.

I drove us back to her place carefully avoiding the patches of ice that were starting to form on the overpasses and bridges in between.

"I'm glad you had a good time tonight," I spoke, laying my hand on top of hers after I put the car in park at her apartment.

"The best time," she replied, smiling over at me.

' _Go on Jon, just say it, you idiot',_ I told myself, but I couldn't.

I couldn't bring myself to say it and risk her abandoning ship right then. I didn't want to move too fast. This was only her second relationship and she never would talk about the first one. All I knew was he destroyed her, every ounce of self-confidence she had was drained from her the second they called it quits.

"Maybe we can make it happen more than just once every couple of weeks," I suggested.

Mich smiled excitedly. "Really?" she asked.

I nodded, playing with her fingers, staring at our hands.

"Yeah. I mean…I miss you when I'm not around you, ya know? Maybe I can start coming here on my off days…" my voice trailed off.

"I'd love that. A lot, actually. I mean, there's really no point in you having an apartment that you pay a thousand dollars a month for in Vegas if you're never there. You can just come here, and we can spend more time together," she rambled.

I smiled and rubbed her chin softly with my thumb. "You want me to move in with you?" I asked her.

She blushed a deep shade of pink and nodded.

"I guess that's what I'm saying," she replied.

Well, that was a step.

' _You dumbass. You can basically ask to move in with her but you can't tell her how you feel? Stop being a pussy,'_ I told myself. I smacked myself in the head in retaliation. Sometimes my conscience was a pain in the ass.

"Hey. Don't do that," Mich pulled my hand down.

"Sorry. I'm just thinking. My inner voice is an asshole," I told her.

She smiled softly and kissed my cheek. "Let's go inside and cuddle," she said.

I helped her out of the car and up the stairs to her apartment. I fumbled around for her key and let us inside. She quickly shed her coat and shoes before making her way into the bathroom. She left the door open and I watched her as she slowly began taking off her dress, unzipping the zipper on the side slowly and shimmying it off her shoulders. She allowed it to slide slowly down her body, revealing a sheer black lace bra and matching panties. I licked my lips, losing concentration on the buttons I was undoing on my shirt. She unhooked the bra slowly, hanging it on a hook on the door between the bathroom and her room. She removed a t-shirt from another hook and pulled it over her head. It fit her loosely, hanging off her right shoulder, showing off the anchor tattoo she had that said 'hold on, pain ends' around it. I rubbed myself through my jeans. I wanted her so bad. The water started running, steam rising as it heated up. She removed her contacts and washed her face, removing all traces of makeup, leaving her fair skin pink from the hot water and scrubbing she'd done to get it all off. She patted her face dry with a towel, picked up her discarded dress, and tossed it in the laundry hamper before turning off the bathroom light and walking back into the living room where I was cemented, still staring at her. I couldn't believe how lucky I was.

Mich walked past me to the black suede couch against the wall and sat down, pulling a blanket down over her. I wondered how easy suede was to clean if it got stained up. I fumbled with the rest of the buttons on my shirt and removed my belt and boots, followed by my jeans and socks. I dug in my bag for a pair of pajamas that might be clean, but literally everything smelled like ass. Fuck it. I zipped the bag closed and moved over to sit by Mich on the couch. She smiled softly, spreading the blanket out over both of us, taking my hand under the blanket and resting her head on my arm.

"Comfortable?" I asked her.

She laughed softly and nodded. "Comfortable. Content," she replied.

There was that sleepy voice I loved so much. "And tired," I added for her.

She nodded again, her eyes closed.

"You wanna sleep here?" I asked.

She looked up at me slowly. "Doesn't matter. I'd sleep under a bridge with you," she stated.

I kissed her head softly and laid down, pulling her with me. I adjusted the pillow under my head, wrapped my arms around her so that she wouldn't fall and readjusted the blanket. I didn't want her getting cold. She reached up and pulled one of my legs over hers and closed her eyes.

"Goodnight, beautiful," I said, rubbing her back.

She didn't respond. I only heard her breathing, nice and even, as her body rose and fell in unison as she slept. I sighed to myself, not ceasing to rub my hands in soft circles on her back. I replayed the day in my mind from beginning to end. Coming to see her was really spur of the moment. I hadn't planned it at all, at least not for that day. I'd dreamt about her for what seemed like the hundredth time. I'd had enough of dreaming. I wanted to see her, touch her, kiss her; so I'd changed my flight from Vegas to Dallas, hit the gym, and flown to see her. I picked up some flowers in the airport, called a cab, and headed to her place. She made it easy on me by saying she wanted something to eat, I played it off by saying I'd order it for her and have it delivered. I was afraid I'd have to hit every complex in the city or do some serious creeping to find her otherwise, and that could have taken the entire three days. The look on her face when she opened the door was priceless, complete shock and disbelief. It was like she wasn't sure if I was real or not.

I felt the same way about her sometimes. I wasn't sure how the hell I'd gotten so lucky to land a girl like her. She wasn't a supermodel or an actress or even another wrestler. She was just an average girl. She worked an average job. She didn't cake on makeup on the daily. Hell, she slept in her underwear and a t-shirt. She was satisfied with pizza and a glass of whiskey to wind down with. I didn't have to worry about taking her on vacations to wineries or tropical islands. She liked wrestling and rock and roll music. She liked funny movies and she didn't care whether or not she had kids. She adored her sisters and her friends more than life itself. She didn't care about Michael Kors or Coco Chanel. She didn't want a designer bag on her arm all the time or shoes with red soles. She was more comfortable in combat boots and leggings.

Most of all, she was comfortable with me. She cared about me and who I really was. She wasn't dating Dean Ambrose. She wasn't even dating Jon Moxley. She was with me, Jon Good. That meant a lot to me. Since I'd gotten into WWE, I had flocks of girls, in and out of the business on my dick, metaphorically speaking. I won't lie, I had my fair share of them actually on my dick at some point, but that's not important. None of them wanted me for the right reasons. They wanted to boost their own careers; modeling, announcing, commentating, wrestling, whatever it may be. Mich was just fine working where she did, selling clothes at the mall. She never asked me for anything, but if she'd asked me for the world, I would have given it to her.

What seemed like hours later, I finally closed my eyes in an attempt to sleep but Mich shifted slightly in my arms, but didn't wake. Once I was sure she was still out, I kissed her head softly and closed my eyes again.

"I love you," I whispered, and the world went black.


	8. Heavy

I woke up the next morning with my head nestled under Jon's chin. His arms were wrapped tightly around me. I somehow managed to wriggle free of his grasp and made my way to the bathroom before shuffling into the kitchen to start breakfast. I scrambled a few egg whites for Jon and threw a few slices of bread into the toaster. I put some bacon into a pan and dug around my cabinet for the coffee pot I'd bought when I had made the decision to start drinking coffee. It turned out I wasn't a fan, but I still had the coffee and the pot. I plugged it in and started it brewing so he would have a cup to go with his breakfast. Surprisingly enough, he didn't budge through all the noise. He just snoozed away, curled into the couch cushions. He looked so peaceful. I poured myself a glass of juice and his coffee when it was done. I turned off the stove and walked over to the couch quietly with the cup in my hand. I sat it down on the end table and leaned down to kiss Jon's head softly, gently rubbing his scalp as I did.

He groaned and stretched. "I smell coffee," he mumbled.

I giggled softly and kissed his head again. "I made us breakfast," I told him.

He opened one eye and looked up at me. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he said.

I felt my cheeks flush pink and my heart rate speed up. Maybe this was the right time. No. This wasn't it. I'd know when it was right. Wouldn't I? God, it was so exhausting feeling like this. Jon sat up and I reached over, grabbing the cup of coffee and handed it to him. He took a drink of it before stretching and groaning. His joints cracked as he did. I noted to myself that I didn't give him enough credit for what he did on a daily basis; putting his body through such trauma had to be exhausting and painful and he'd been doing it for ten years already with no end in sight. He didn't plan on stopping until he was at least forty. I imagined what he'd sound like when he stretched in the morning fifteen years down the road. Snap, crackle, pop. I hoped somewhere in the back of my mind that I'd still be the one waking up to him then.

We ate breakfast together in our underwear on the couch, discussing things we could possibly do for the day. There was so much to do in Dallas, especially at this time of year. Christmas was getting closer and closer. I had given up my hours at work to one of my part time managers that had three kids so that I could spend time with Jon. She appreciated the extra time on the clock more than anything and I appreciated her allowing me to spend time with my boyfriend. If I could have afforded it, I would have just given her the keys and told her "Merry Christmas" and gone along my way, but I couldn't afford to quit my job. I still had bills to pay regardless if Jon was moving in or not.

I had momentarily forgotten he was moving in. I felt myself smile and I looked up at him. I'd never had a live-in boyfriend before. Hell, I'd never had a real boyfriend. Jon was my first real relationship. I leaned over and softly kissed his muscular arm before laying my head on it.

"You okay?" he asked, taking another drink of his coffee. He sat the cup down on the table next to our empty plates and pulled me closer to him.

I felt safe and secure when he held me close, his arm around me, my head tucked under his chin, one arm squeezed behind him and the other wrapped securely around his waist. He rubbed my arm softly as we sat there.

"Just thinking about how much I don't want to go to work Friday. I gave up my hours today and tomorrow so I could spend time with you. I have a good mind to just never go back, but I have bills to pay _and_ it's Christmas time. I just stress too much about this damn job. I want out so bad," I explained.

"So quit. You can find something else. I know you can. Or. You can just relax. Stay at home and do nothing. I can take care of bills," he said.

I shook my head. I wouldn't be that girl. I couldn't.

"Why not?" he questioned.

"I just can't be that girl. I don't want you to foot all the bills while I just sit on my ass. That wouldn't be fair to you," I replied.

"Sure it would. I pretty much have a set schedule; Friday through Tuesday. I could come home on Wednesdays and Thursdays, see your beautiful face, and go back to work. You wouldn't have to worry about getting off every Wednesday and Thursday, you could travel with me whenever you want… It would be perfect. I'm making enough money right now I think I could handle making the bills. If you want to quit, then quit. I don't like seeing you stressed. At least take a mental health break. For like a month. And then try to find something else," Jon suggested.

I thought on it for a few seconds. I could at least think about it. A month's break sounded glorious, and I was sure I could find something else. Maybe a sabbatical wasn't such a bad idea. I promised Jon that I'd at least put some thought into it. He asked that I give him an answer by the next week so he could break his lease and get what few things he had in Vegas shipped to my place; the most important being, his coffee pot and coffee mug. The way I took it, he was fine with abandoning pretty much everything else in the place. He had a US title belt with his name on it, some wrestling gear, a few pair of jeans, and a mattress on the floor. He said he'd probably leave that behind, though. He just wanted his title belt and his clothes… And that damned coffee pot and coffee mug.

Before I moved Jon in completely, I thought it was important that he meet my sisters. 

We decided to go out to a little dive bar where they were having an open mic night to have a few drinks after both of my sisters got off of work. I didn't bother dolling myself up this time, instead of the fancy dress and flats, I opted for an ensemble of black leggings, Doc Martens, and an oversized plaid shirt with a band tee underneath. I pulled my hair on top of my head in a messy bun, swiped on a bit of eyeliner and mascara, and met Jon in the living room.

"You look cute," he said, placing his hands on my hips. I smiled and kissed his lips softly.

"Ready?" I asked.

Jon nodded and took my hand, leading me to the car. Once again, being the gentleman he was, he opened my door for me and then let himself in the car. Suddenly, I was anxious. I wanted to back out of the whole ordeal and go back inside. I chalked it up to nerves, after all, he was meeting my family; really the only family I had. He'd already met my friends and survived. This was going to be the true test. Jon drove us to the bar and paid our cover. We made our way to the bar and ordered our first round of whiskey shots of the night. He chased his with a beer.

"Pussy," I laughed, shaking my head. Jon raised his eyebrows at me as he moved closer and kissed my neck softly. He reached between my legs and began rubbing me through my leggings. I let out a soft whimper, barely audible over the thumping of the music.

"What was that?" he asked, his voice gruff in my ear.

"Nothing," I replied, biting my lip. He chuckled softly and nipped my earlobe before kissing my cheek and leaning back onto the bar. I'd left him hard the previous night and I knew it. I didn't mean to, really. I was so exhausted. Tonight would be different.

"Mich!" I heard from behind me. I turned on my heels, smiling. My sisters had arrived. Amanda was clad in a cream knee length dress with brown and teal cowgirl boots on her feet. She was so damned gorgeous with her olive skin and dark brown hair framing her slim face. She had this infectious smile that honestly lit up a room, with a personality to match. She had a sassy attitude in the absolute best way, with the biggest heart and a giving spirit that made her inner beauty outshine already gorgeous exterior. It really wasn't fair. Blake stood to her left, dressed more like me, but with her own little flair – black leggings, knee high combat boots, and a black chiffon top with tiny skulls adorning it, her platinum blonde hair flipped to one side to show her undercut. She was like me, super fair skinned, but with green eyes whereas mine are blue.

The truth is, neither of these girls were my biological sisters, but blood never really mattered to us. We were sisters. I greeted each of them with a hug and introduced them to Jon.

"Jon… Baby, these are my sisters. Amanda, and Blake," I gestured to each of them. He shook each of their hands and introduced himself and followed his greeting by offering to buy them each a drink. Blake declined, she couldn't stay long and still had to drive home, but Amanda accepted his offer and had a drink. Jon ordered us each another shot and Blake a Coke so she wouldn't feel completely left out. He ventured off to yell at the band to play "Freebird". I couldn't help but laugh and shake my head. He was so silly. I absolutely loved every moment of being around him. He never failed to make me laugh and smile.

"Well?" I said, waiting on my sisters to state their opinion.

"Well we've already told you he's cute. He seems really nice, gentlemanly, funny, fun to be around," Amanda said.

I nodded. "He is," I said, looking over the crowd. It was starting to get packed and I knew it would only be a matter of time before Blake left us. This wasn't exactly her scene.

"As long as he's good to you, you know we don't care. What I'm interested in is his friend. You know. The big Samoan one," Blake said.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, laughing. Ever since Jon and his partners had debuted on TV, my younger sister had been googly-eyed over the big Samoan they called Roman Reigns. Jon called him Joe, or his 'brotha' more affectionately.

"Like I told you. I'm totally not hounding him about hooking you up with his friend. But maybe when they come to Dallas, you girls can go out with us, his partners and coworkers for dinner and drinks. Then you can strike up a casual conversation with whomever your heart desires," I replied.

Jon swaggered back over, empty beer in hand. He ordered another and leaned on the bar. "What are we talking about?" he asked.

"How Blake thinks your Samoan friend is just the most gorgeous thing. And Amanda here is all about Dolph," I replied. Jon nodded and took a drink of his fresh beer. Both of my sisters blushed.

"I can hook y'all up when we come back to Dallas. We'll all go on like a group date or something," he said, throwing his arm around my shoulders. I smiled and leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I felt safe and secure – happy, content, untouchable.

Blake left after about half an hour so she could still get plenty of sleep before work and Amanda left after we'd all been hanging together for about an hour. They both texted me when they got home to let me know they'd made it safely and to give their stamp of approval for Jon. They could see how happy I was with him and that he was good to me, protective and caring. That was all that mattered to them.

After they made their exit, I couldn't help but notice the anxious feeling hadn't gone away. I felt like there was an elephant sitting on my chest. It was getting stuffy and hard to breathe and I was alone, Jon had gone to shoot a game of pool with a group of guys he'd started chatting with. I'd already shed my plaid shirt and tied it around my waist, but I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead. A minute or so later I realized why. I spotted him all the way across the room and he was coming my way.

"Michy," Mike approached me. I could feel myself stop breathing and my entire body was shaking.

"Mike…" I managed to spit his name out without stuttering. I looked into the next room. Jon was laughing and talking with his newfound friends.

"Thought I saw you. I saw your sisters leaving and figured you would be here. How's it going?" he asked me.

I folded my arms across my chest and nodded. I didn't want to speak for fear of throwing up. I started inching my way away from him toward the room where Jon was, but Mike blocked me. He leaned against the bar and ordered us a round of drinks. I took a deep ragged breath and reminded myself to continue to breathe. Jon would be done soon and he'd come to my rescue, right?

"How's life?" he asked, handing me the drink he'd ordered on my behalf. I took it only because I was certain it hadn't been drugged. I downed it almost all at once.

"I'm great. I have an amazing boyfriend that I'm completely in love with. He's moving in actually," I said.

I could hear my voice shaking. Mike rolled his eyes and shook his head. He leaned back against the bar and I looked him over once. He still looked the same, dark brown hair that he kept shaved close to his head, brown eyes, and a full beard. He had tattoos and wore skinny jeans and had this cocky demeanor about him. He thought he was God's gift to women. More like every woman's nightmare. Jon's partner Colby reminded me a lot of Mike; asshole attitude and all.

Mike reached over and brushed his fingers against my arm. I had been staring off into space because it made me jump.

"Relax," he told me, his voice soft.

I was still trembling. He didn't understand what being around him did to me. It was just shy of having a full blown panic attack. I wondered if I could sneak a 911 text to Jon without Mike noticing. With trembling fingers, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and typed a message to Jon. Before I could hit send, Mike pulled my phone from my hand and put it in his pocket.

"Always texting. I'm standing here talking to you and you're ignoring me. I can remember a time when all you wanted to do is talk to me," Mike said, brushing my cheek with his hand.

I pulled away, the panic setting in deeper now. The air felt thick and my chest felt tight. I could feel my eyes getting wetter and somewhere in the distance I could hear myself faintly gasping for air.

Mike grabbed me and pulled me close to him, only intensifying the attack. It felt like I was being completely smothered now. He had me in a tight grip, his hand on the back of my head, holding it to his chest. I tried to push him away, but he was stronger than me. I swallowed hard, ready to call for Jon, but nothing came out. What seemed like minutes was actually seconds before someone stepped between us; someone tall, broad and muscular with a raspy voice and a leather jacket on. He pushed Mike away and said a few choice words before turning to check on me.

"My phone," I mumbled, "he has my phone."

Jon nodded. With his jaw clenched he turned back to Mike and demanded he give my phone back. When Mike handed it over, he thrust it at me and headed for the door. I followed him, shaky, barely able to walk.

"J-Jon," I stuttered his name, finally catching up to him.

He grunted in response as he was fishing in his pockets for my car keys. He was so angry. I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that it wasn't all at Mike. For the first time since we'd started dating, I was positive he was mad at me. It was my own fault, really. If I had just told him about Mike, he would've had an inkling as to who he was. I'm sure he assumed I was just hugging on some guy at the bar, but I wasn't.

"Jon," I repeated.

"What?" he snapped, turning to face me.

I felt my eyes well up with tears again. I blinked several times, trying to will them away, but they fell anyhow, hot on my cheeks.

"Jon, please…it's not what you think…" I started.

He shook his head, laughing softly. "So what was it? Who was he?" he asked.

I choked back a deep, heavy sob.

"He's my ex…" I replied honestly.

"Your ex?" Jon laughed.

I nodded and wiped at my cheeks. We were having our first fight and I hated it. It made me sick at my stomach. I never imagined our first fight being over my ex boyfriend.

"So I come here on my only days off in the last month to see you, and you hug up on your ex in a bar? How do you think that makes me feel? You still have feelings for him? If you do, I'm out. You can have him and you two can be happy," Jon said. His tone was sharp and harsh.

"Jon, no. It's not like that," I stepped closer to him. I touched his face, but he pulled away.

My eyes welled up again.

"What's it like, Mich? Tell me. Tell me right fucking now. Because I'm not here to play this childish bullshit. I don't want to waste my time on some girl who's still in love with her ex!" Jon yelled.

"I don't love him! I love you!" I yelled back.


	9. Screaming, Crying

I got in the car silently after Mich told me she loved me. It was heat of the moment.

' _Right?_ I couldn't help but wonder at this point.

We were both upset. She was just saying it to try and reel me back in.

' _Right?'_

I wasn't gonna leave her; I was just pissed off. How else did she expect me to react when I saw her with another guy? How would she have felt if she'd seen me hugged up with another girl? The closer I'd gotten to them, I'd realized that she was in a panic. And I admit, I probably should have been calmer about it all. I was more pissed off that she never opened up to me about him. He must have really fucked her up for her to be that upset over him still. It had been four years, I knew that much, but that was all I knew. I didn't know how they came to an end. What did she see in him anyway? Shrimpy thing, probably three inches or so taller than her, and he looked like a knock-off Randy Orton with his beady little eyes and stupid ass beard.

I drove us silently back to her place. We didn't speak, but I wanted her to know that I wasn't completely pissed off at her at least. I took her hand into mine and kissed it. She gave me a teary half-assed smile and went back to staring out the window as I drove.

"Are you not gonna speak?" I asked her.

"What is there to say?" she replied sharply, shrugging. She still didn't look at me.

I sighed, exasperated, and pulled my hand away from hers and put them both on the wheel.

"Why'd you pull away?" she snapped at me.

"I'm trying to drive, Mich," I snapped back.

I knew she was rolling her eyes right then. She crossed her arms and huffed, but still didn't speak.

"You could tell me what the hell all of that was about back there. Why was he all over you? And why are you so damn scared of him?" I said, still frustrated.

I wanted to get to the bottom of this, and if that meant us screaming at each other, then so be it. I pulled into an empty parking lot and put the car in park.

"Come on. Talk. Because if we're gonna be together you gotta tell me shit. I'm not gonna deal with you being all secretive and shit; especially about your ex. I've been open with you. You can do the same for me," I said. My voice was harsh. I realized that a little too late though.

"I'm not being secretive. He's my ex. There's nothing to say," she snapped, releasing her seatbelt. She still wouldn't look at me. Her hand was on the door. What was she gonna do? Walk home?

"Yes there fucking is, Michelle. He had you in a fucking state of panic. What did he do to you?! Did he hit you?! I'll go back and whip his ass. Motherfucker. I just want you to talk to me!" I hit the steering wheel.

The horn honked when I did and I could see Mich trying not to laugh even though she was crying again. I hated to see her upset. She wiped her eyes and shook her head. Even though she was angry at me and her makeup was running down her face, she was still so damn beautiful. I realized somewhere in the midst of our fighting that I was in love with her, without a doubt, but now wasn't the time to tell her that. If I told her I loved her and this ended badly, it would kill her. I mean, more likely than not, kill her. I couldn't have that on me. I never wanted to be the reason for her pain.

"No. He never hit me. He never physically abused me," she said. We'd been sitting in dead silence for at least half an hour since I'd asked the question. The only noise was the cars passing on the highway, the hum of the engine, and the sound of the heat blowing out of the vents. Finally, we were getting somewhere.

"Then what happened?"

"Maybe I just don't wanna talk about it, Jon! It hurts, okay?!" She was yelling now. Her face was red, her entire body trembling again. She had so much emotion built up inside of her. It wouldn't hurt her to get it all out.

"I need to know, Mich, so I don't do it too. Just fucking open your mouth and talk to me. I'm your boyfriend. You want me to move in with you. We gotta have some kind of god damned communication!" I yelled back at her and hit the steering wheel again. Sweat was beading on my forehead and I could feel the blood pumping through my veins. My adrenaline was running a hundred miles an hour. I had to fight the urge to shake the truth out of her, but that definitely wasn't the answer.

" He's the reason I hate myself. He told me I was fat and ugly and that no one would ever want me. He dated me out of pity. He bailed when his friends found out about me. Then he wrote a song about me and played it in front of me and all of his friends. I can't look at him without having flashbacks to that. That's what happened, okay? Now you know. Can we please just fucking go home now?"

Mich was gasping for breath between body-shaking sobs. She'd emptied her lungs screaming at me. I wanted to comfort her, but I doubted she'd let me. I just drove back to her apartment silently, both hands on the wheel once she finally caught her breath and stopped crying as hard.

I turned the radio on to a country station and turned the volume up, trying to drown out my thoughts. I wouldn't apologize for the way I reacted. I wasn't sorry for how I reacted, at least not at the moment. I was sorry it had upset her though. It broke my heart to see her so torn up because of me. I knew we were bound to get into it eventually. Things had been too smooth sailing from the get go for us to not eventually have some kind of big dumb argument. I didn't really expect it to be over something like this.

Maybe all my exes were right; maybe I was insecure. Maybe I was possessive. I never saw myself as the jealous type, not until now. My philosophy was that if a girl wanted to be with someone else, then fuck it, she could go be with someone else. Not Mich. She was mine – all mine. When I saw her with her ex, this jealous raging monster inside of me came to life, scratching and clawing its way out of me. I felt myself turn into something else. I never wanted Mich to see that side of me. That side of me was called Mox, and he stayed tucked away for a reason.

When we got back inside her apartment, she went into her room and closed the door. Maybe she needed some time alone. There was so much tension in the car between the bar and her ‒ our apartment. Did I still live here? I needed a minute to think anyway. I paced the living room, pondering what I could say or do to make her feel better, but nothing that came to mind seemed helpful. I needed a smoke. I patted my bag down for my emergency pack and stepped out onto the balcony. I shoved a cigarette between my lips and lit it, taking a long drag. It was getting cold out again. I released the smoke into the night air and took another drag off my cigarette. I hoped Mich could forgive me for blowing up like I did. I hoped so. I really couldn't stand the thought of her hating me. I'd fucked up every single relationship I'd ever been in and I was on the fast track to doing the same to this one.

' _Fuck, I have to fix this.'_

I couldn't lose her. I snuffed out the cigarette on the red brick wall and went back inside, closing and locking the sliding glass door behind me. I knocked softly on Mich's door, hoping she'd allow me to come in.

I heard a sniffle before she called back to me to come in. I crawled in bed behind her and wrapped my right arm tightly around her, pulling her body against mine. I hoped I was doing this making up thing right. I'd never done it before; never cared to before now. She sniffled again, but didn't say anything. Maybe it was best that we didn't say anything. I kissed her shoulder softly and rubbed her hip with my hand. She still had on all of her clothes and boots. I knew she couldn't be comfortable. I got up and unlaced her black vinyl boots, removed them from her feet and dropped them to the floor. I rubbed her feet after I removed her socks, starting with the arches and moving to the balls of her feet. I placed a soft kiss on the inside of her ankle, then right below her knee, and on the inside of her thigh before she'd even look at me.

"Jon," she said my name in a near whisper.

"Shh," I quieted her, rubbing her legs softly.

My hands drifted up and found the waistband of her leggings. I pulled on them gently as if to ask her for permission. She lifted her hips ever-so-slightly, allowing me to pull them off of her. I smirked to myself when I saw she wasn't wearing any underwear. I removed her leggings fully and discarded them to the side with her boots and socks and started kissing up her legs again, this time stopping just below her belly button, skipping over the most sensitive parts of her. I wanted to save the best for last. I pushed her shirt up slowly, kissing up her stomach until I got just below her breasts. She tried to resist, pushing her shirt down, but I pushed it back up. She hated herself so much because of her piece of shit ex. I was going to make it my mission to erase every bad thing he'd ever done to her.

"Sit up," I instructed her. I did the same and pulled my shirt off, tossing it aside into the growing pile of discarded clothing and shoes. Mich sat up slowly, watching me closely. I leaned in, kissing her lips softly. I could tell she'd been crying again, her mascara and eyeliner had left streaks down her pale cheeks. I tried wiping them away, but her tears had already dried turning into stains.

"You're beautiful," I told her, pushing her plaid shirt off of her shoulders behind her. She shook her head, looking away. I turned her face to mine gently and kissed her again.

"Don't argue with me," I said.

Mich laughed softly.

"Yes sir," she replied, blushing deeply.


	10. Not Today, Satan

I groaned when I opened my eyes and found the Texas sunlight flooding my room the next morning. I hated the sun and the way it reflected off of every slightly shiny surface in the room, intensifying its blinding powers. I threw the blanket off of me. It was hot, combined with the blinding white light flooding my bedroom and the heater in the bed next to me. Why was I naked? I stretched my muscles one by one and it slowly came back to me when I realized my hips and thighs were sore. Jon and I had gotten into a huge fight…and made up…twice. I sighed and rolled over onto my side, wrapping an arm around his waist. This was day three of his visit, the last day I'd get to see him for God only knew how long. I kissed softly across a scar on his back he'd acquired from being wrapped in barbed wire in a match in his independent days. His light snoring subsided and was followed by a loud groan as he stretched out. He rolled onto his back and looked over at me, his eyes barely open as his retinas adjusted to the sun.

"Fuck, Mich. We're going to buy curtains. How do you sleep in here?!" Jon said, rolling over and burying his face into my chest. I laughed, rubbing the back of his neck softly. He groaned with pleasure, not moving. I replayed the previous night in my head over again. I never wanted to fight with him again, it made me feel like my heart had been ripped out of my chest and dissected. I felt my body tremble when I got to the part of the night where Mike pulled me close to him. I shook my head as if I were trying to shake the thoughts out of it.

"What's the matter?" Jon looked up at me, his face softened with concern.

"I'm just thinking about last night," I told him. Honesty was key, right? He wanted me to be more open, at least that's what he yelled at me the night before. I felt my eyes well up with tears. I hated that I had made him angry. I was going to tear myself apart for days for that one even though we'd made up. It was my biggest fear in life to make someone who I loved angry or annoyed with me. It sounds so silly, but it's paralyzing to think that something I said or did could have made him go away forever. Thankfully he forgave me for being so shut off, but he made me promise to never do it again. We were going to be honest with one another. He really wanted us to work out, and so did I.

"Hey, hey. No crying. It's over. Stop thinking about it. We're good. Okay?" Jon rubbed my chin and kissed me softly on the lips. I kissed him back once, then a second time. God, his lips felt so good on mine, like they were made for kissing mine. I nodded and took a deep, cleansing breath. I was thankful for Jon's forgiveness and for making up. I guessed part of him must love me if he wanted to make this work. I smiled softly, running my fingers through his curls. He was such a beautiful sight to wake up to. I wanted more of this in my life. He was the one, that I was one hundred percent certain of. I just needed to be patient and take things slow. This was new to both of us. For now, I needed to focus on just showing him that I cared.

"I'm gonna make you some coffee and get a shower," I told him. He smiled and kissed me one more time before he rolled off of me.

"You're a good woman," he told me. He tucked his toned tanned arms behind his head, the sheet just barely covering his lower body. I was glad he thought I was a good woman. I wanted to be good for him. I walked to the kitchen and started the coffee before making my way into the bathroom. I turned the light on and started the water, turning it all the way to hot. I looked myself over in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. _Shit_ , my body was wrecked. The insides of my thighs and my hips were bruised and there were bite marks and small hickeys all over my body. Normally I found things like that so trashy, but damn, it felt good when it was happening. Jon had been considerate enough to put most of them where they'd be covered up by my clothing.

I climbed into the shower, silently thinking about how different it would be having a man living with me now. I thought about the little things, making him dinner on the nights he was home, making him coffee in the mornings, doing his laundry. I didn't mind the thought of all of it by any means, it was just so different for me. I'd always been alone, other than my sisters, and we were all so self-sufficient. I'm sure Jon was too, he'd been on his own since he was sixteen years old, but I _wanted_ to do all of those things for him. I wanted to be the one to pick him up on Wednesdays from the airport and to drop him off on Friday mornings. I wanted to wake up next to him and fall asleep next to him as much as possible. Whether he'd acknowledged that I'd told him or not, I loved him.I loved him so damn much. I'd never been in so deep, not even with Mike. This was a whole new thing to me and as much as it terrified me, it thrilled me at the same time. Every time I looked at him I could feel myself smiling. He filled me with so much joy I felt like my heart would explode at the seams. I closed my eyes, rinsing the shampoo out of my hair.

I jumped when I felt something brush against my leg, but I realized it was just the shower curtain moving slightly from Jon entering the room.

"There room in there for two of us?" he asked, peeking in. He licked his lips, looking me over. His blue eyes drifted from my head to my toes and he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and held it between his teeth. I pressed myself against the wall and allowed him to enter. He was still naked, and fuck me, it was glorious. It must have been the first time I really took the time to look him over and really take it all in, at least in person. I'd spent plenty of time zooming in on badly-angled mirror selfies he'd sent me or pictures he'd taken in his hotel bed of his hard-ons that he said I gave him. Shit like that made me feel good; being with Jon was good for my self-esteem.

I felt my breath catch in my chest as he arched his back and rolled his neck, letting the hot water run over his body. I bit my lip as I watched his back muscles ripple from his shoulders all the way down to his ass. _Mmm, that ass_. I giggled softly, reaching out to touch it, but retracted when he turned around and faced me. He smirked at me, that damn cocky shit eating grin that drove me so wild, his dimples deep set in his cheeks. Water dripped off of his shaggy blonde hair and rolled down the front of his body, little beads trickling down around his abs like a marble in one of those flimsy plastic maze games you get when you're a kid. The shower wasn't the only thing getting me wet that was for certain. I followed the water as it ran further down, making rivers in the indents where his torso met his pelvis and over his thick, muscular thighs.

I pulled away from the wall and took a step to close the space between us. I just wanted to touch him to make sure he was real. I laid my hands on his chest and stood on my tiptoes to kiss his lips softly. I'd grown to love how his scruff felt against my face when we kissed, especially if it had been growing out for a few days and was beginning to soften like it was then. He smiled and kissed me back, rubbing my chin softly with his thumb. It was so hard to resist saying it again, those three pesky words that were just on the tip of my tongue, fighting to come out. I couldn't do it, though. I was terrified. I couldn't say it again and not hear it back, so I swallowed the words and kissed him again before returning to a more relaxing standing position, my hands still placed on his chest. I could feel his heart beating beneath my hand, a nice, steady pace. Jon placed a soft kiss on my forehead, followed by the tip of my nose, and finally, our lips met.

"I wish we could do this every day," I sighed, pulling him closer to me. I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head on his chest, letting the water wash over the both of us, our naked, wet bodies melded together. Jon rubbed my back. For some reason, I was so in love with the way skin-to-skin felt in water, whether it be the shower or a pool. It made his touch even more velvet-like. I shivered as his fingertips brushed across my lower back and he kissed my forehead again.

"We could, if you wanted. You could quit your job and come with me," Jon told me. The water was starting to get cold and I was shivering from more than just his touch. It seemed like Jon had been trying to coax me into quitting my job for weeks now, but even more so now that he was visiting me…hell, he was moving in. I shook my head.

"I don't know…" I protested.

"Think about it. You've got time. No rush, okay?"

All I could do was nod. The last thing I wanted was to seem like of those mooching girlfriends. That just wasn't me. I was used to working but what I wouldn't give to have more time with Jon. I found myself lost in thought for a few seconds before the temperature in the shower drastically dropped, shocking me and snapping me out of my daze. I shivered hard this time, the water was turning icy cold. It felt like my pipes were draining water straight from the clouds hovering over Dallas. I thought about how icy it would be when it came time to drive Jon to the airport and I grimaced. I hated driving in wintry weather; but that was hours away and I didn't need to worry with it then. What I needed to worry with was laundry and packing his bags for the road. I shut off the shower and exited, wrapping myself in a large plush towel before I handed one off to Jon.

He wrapped it around his hips, leaving the rest of his body exposed, water still trickling down his chest and abs like a marble in a pinball machine. _Fuck me_ , he was distracting. Part of me wanted to shove a shirt at him and tell him to stop distracting me from my housework, the other wanted to rip that damned towel off.

 _'_ _No, Mich. Be an adult. Go do the man's laundry!'_ I bickered at myself internally. God, temptation was an evil thing. ' _Not today, Satan. Not today._


	11. Curtains & Coffee

Jon picked up the pair of jeans he'd worn the day he arrived and pulled them back on while he waited on me to wash the rest of his laundry. I didn't bother getting dressed, I preferred to air-dry after my showers anyhow. We weren't going anywhere for a few hours. I'd just lounge in my towel until later. I dragged his bag to the laundry room and emptied it on the floor. He didn't have much, just a few pair of jeans and tanks and underwear that needed to be washed along with his socks and knee pads he wore in the ring. I threw them all in the wash with a cup of detergent and closed the lid. I looked around for a certain crate I'd shoved in my laundry room upon moving into my apartment and dug around in it until I unearthed two vinyl packages containing thick black curtains. I shoved the crate back on its shelf and walked into the living room where Jon had made himself at home with a cup of coffee. I dropped the two packages by him and took a seat.

"What's this?" he asked. He took a long drink of his black coffee and picked up one of the packages.

"Curtains," I laughed, "I'm just too short to put them up. The rods are installed already. I just… Can't reach them, they're too high up."

"You're perfect. Now I can finally sleep when I'm home," he put his cup down and ripped the packages at their seams cardboard falling out as he unfolded the curtains. I couldn't help but smile at him. He was so happy with the littlest things in life, like coffee and curtains to block out the sun so he could sleep when he was off; bike rides in the early morning, Pantera on the radio, TV shows about Bigfoot… He was an easy man to please. I dreaded him leaving me so much. I was beginning to understand why wives and girlfriends of these guys didn't want to work. If their guys were half as wonderful as mine, well, I'd wanna hit the road too, or at least be home when he was. Maybe Jon was right.

"I keep thinking about what you said about my job," I said, breaking our silence. Jon polished off his cup of coffee and sat it down on the table next to him.

"About quitting?" he asked. He looked up at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his blue eyes shining. I normally wasn't into guys with blue eyes, but there was just something about his that were so captivating. He made me lose my train of thought to form any type of response I had sitting at the tip of my tongue. Whatever it was, it was gone now.

"Mich," Jon touched my leg gently.

I jerked slightly at his touch, startled. "Sorry, I zoned out. Yeah. About quitting," I replied.

"And?" he coaxed.

"I'm thinking maybe I could step down. Ya know, not have so much stress and responsibility, but still be able to work. Give them limited days I can work, like Friday through Sunday, and I could be home for you on Wednesdays and Thursdays."

"Or you could just quit and come out on the road with me. That would be cool too," Jon said.

' _Come out on the road? Live out of suitcases and hotel rooms and rental cars? Four flights a week, in and out of arenas and sleeping in hotels?'_ I wasn't sure the gypsy life was for me, but for him, I'd give anything a shot. He was really pushing the issue heavily. He must have really, really wanted me there. Maybe I made him feel the way he made me feel, safe and secure; wanted… _Needed._ I knew enough about him that he'd never really felt wanted or needed in his life. His father left when he was only two, leaving him, his sister, and his mom alone with no income. They moved into public housing and his mom started slinging dope to make ends meet. When that wasn't enough, she started selling herself on the street corner. He told me a story once about the year he was in fourth grade. Every day on his way home, he had to pass his mom on the street corner and every single day, she'd yell at him and embarrass him in front of his friends. He never made another friend until he was sixteen when he met the guy who wound up training him, Cody Hawk. After that, he made a few good friends on the circuit, most of whom he kept in contact with still, but he could count his real friends on one hand. He hadn't spoken to his mother in nearly ten years. If I could be that one person in his life to make him feel important, then I'd do anything in my power to keep him happy.

I took a deep breath and let it out.

"Okay. I need two weeks," I told him.

Instantly his eyes lit up and he smiled wider than I'd ever seen him smile before. He was like a kid on Christmas.

"Really?" he asked.

I smiled and caressed his cheek softly. "Really."

Jon leaned over and kissed me deeply, his large hands on either side of my face, his soft scruff brushing against my chin as his lips crushed mine. He pulled away and pressed his forehead to mine, rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs.

"You really make me feel good, Mich," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. I kissed the tip of his nose and smiled at him softly.

"I'm glad. You do the same for me. I always want you to feel good, Jon. _Always._ I… I care about you a _lot_ ," I replied.

There. That was good enough for now. He had no idea how hard it was to swallow those words again and again. It was like I had to chew up glass and swallow it down every single time the words 'I love you' danced at the tip of my tongue. They were like a prisoner, trapped, clawing and screaming, trying to fight their way out of my mouth and into his ears.

"I care about you too. I wouldn't have stayed after last night if I didn't. That's the honest truth. I love everything about you. Your hair, your eyes, your smile, the way you laugh, how you touch me, how you want to do shit for me and make me feel like a real man, like… It's fucking great. No woman has ever treated me like I was a decent man before. Not one; and you do. You make me feel like I'm the best fucking boyfriend in the world. And I'm trying really hard. You take me like I am. You don't try to change shit about me. I like that."

I wouldn't change anything about Jon for the world. He wasn't my normal type, that was for sure, but he really was trying and that was all I could ask for. He made me feel beautiful, truly beautiful. The way he touched me was so gentle, like he was afraid to break me. He looked at me like I was the most beautiful girl in the world, even with no makeup and my glasses on. And the way he worshipped my body when we had sex was unbelievable. I never knew I could feel that way. Just thinking about it made me wet. I shifted on the couch, crossing my legs, trying to will the feeling away. It wasn't that easy, unfortunately, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"What are you doing? You're all squirmy," Jon asked.

He had, at some point, gotten up and retrieved the curtain rods from my bedroom and began sliding the curtains onto the rods. I groaned and shifted again. He slid the rod into the last curtain slowly while he stared at me. How the hell could putting up curtains be so damned sexual? _Fuck!_ I exhaled a deep breath and got up from the couch quickly, tripping over Jon's boots as I made my way to the laundry closet to throw his things in the dryer. I needed a distraction. Why couldn't I shake this feeling? And seriously, why did him stringing up curtains have to be so damn sexual? I shook my head and tossed all of the clothes into the dryer and started it. Maybe a cold shower would help, but he would surely question why the hell I was showering again when we'd just gotten out not even two hours prior. Damn him, he'd been teasing me all morning, ever since I rolled out of bed and left him laying there with nothing but the sheet covering him. Then the shower and the way that body trickled and dripped all over his muscles, fuck me sideways. I whined, gently beating my head against the wall. He made me into some kind of crazy horny person just by existing. It really wasn't fair.

"Mich! Why'd you run off?" Jon pulled me back from the wall, my back to his stomach.

I couldn't help myself. I reached back and grabbed myself a handful of Jonathan Good, right through his jeans, which were literally hanging on his hips. He groaned, pressing his hips forward into my hand. I turned around to face him, not moving my hand. I wasn't letting go. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him softly, nipping softly at his bottom lip as I pulled away.

"Come on, baby. Don't be a tease," he said gruffly into my ear.

"I'm not," I assured him, rubbing gently as I unhooked his belt. The metal buckle landed with a _clink_ on the ceramic tile floor. I yanked at the waistband on his jeans forcefully, sending a button flying across the laundry room. It bounced and rolled somewhere into the abyss of my apartment and I couldn't help but laugh.

Jon laughed with me. His laugh was intoxicating, hearty, like it came from the center of his stomach. His abs tightened visibly when he laughed, his body bouncing as the sound bellowed from his lungs. His dimples set deep in his cheeks, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He let out a deep breath as his laughter subsided and caressed my cheek before leaving a soft kiss on my lips.

"Damn it, those are my good jeans," he said.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but it would be a lie," I said. I tugged at his zipper carefully. I didn't want to send him back to work with a horror story of how his clumsy girlfriend caught his goods in his zipper while she was trying to seduce him. Besides, it would totally kill the mood for him. Jon slid his fingertips under the hem of the oversized white towel that I had long forgotten was wrapped around my body, grazing my thighs gently, sliding up slowly until his hands wrapped around my hips, gripping my ass and pulling me closer to him, our hips colliding almost a little too hard.

"Ow," I laughed, laying my forehead on his chest.

"Shit, sorry," Jon replied, rubbing my hip softly.

"No, it's okay. It happens. Keep going. We don't have a lot of time," I urged him.

His hand drifted back to my ass cheeks and he gave them a light squeeze as he dipped his head and sucked on my neck gently, nipping here and there with his teeth. I whimpered softly, raking my nails down his side.

"Now who's the tease?" I whined. I kissed the hollow of his throat, pushing my hands into his pants and pushing them down over his hips and let them fall in a heap around his feet on the floor. My eyes drifted down between the obvious growth in his boxers and his mouth. His lips made a trail down my bare shoulders and across my chest. He drove his hands further up my body and let them rest just under my breasts, his hands cupping them softly as he pulled at the corner of the towel tucked in against my body with his teeth. It fell to the floor with his pants around our feet.

"So beautiful," Jon breathed, taking the sight in front of him in.

I tried to cover myself, but Jon pulled my hands away. I surrendered; I knew there was no point in fighting it. He wanted to see everything, and no matter how much I hated my body, I was going to let him. I released a bottled breath and dropped my hands to my sides, trying to convince myself to relax. Jon trailed his fingertips lightly down my arms, leaving goose bumps in their paths.

I finished packing my bag after I helped Mich finish up my laundry. I'd helped her clean herself up too. She was dressed now, clad in black skinny jeans and a thick sweatshirt layered under a dark red leather jacket and boots; ready to take me to the airport so I could get back to work. It was drizzly and frigid outside. I worried about her driving home alone in the icy weather, but she'd be okay as long as she was careful. I didn't want to leave her. I knew I was going to miss her like crazy. Five days and I'd be back with her, though. It was almost Christmas; I wondered what gifts I should get her. Was it too soon to get her gifts? She always talked about wanting a cat. I _hated_ cats. That was a no. Maybe she'd like a new purse or something. Chicks liked stuff like that. No, that didn't sound right. Maybe Wrestlemania tickets? _Fuck, what the hell was I supposed to get her_? I'd never really gotten a girl a gift with any thought behind it. I also realized I didn't know shit about what she liked. I could buy her clothes, but she bought plenty of those at work. She would be quitting soon, though. Shit. I'd ask Joe for some advice when I got to the show. He'd been in a relationship off and on for years.

I felt Mich touch my arm softly. I guess I had been zoned out, staring into my half-packed duffel bag.

"You okay?" she asked. She wrapped her arms around my waist and her head on my chest.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just thinking. What time is it?"

"Four-thirty. Time to go. Come on," she zipped up my bag, making sure my gear was inside. I slung it over my shoulder and took her hand into mine, leading her out to the car. Her little hand was warm inside of mine, our feet crushing the slushy mess left from the ice and snow that had been falling over the last few days. She was quiet, her head was down; her free hand shielding her eyes from the frigid wind. I threw my heavy bag in her messy back seat and opened the passenger door for her. It would take my strength to open it with how hard the wind was blowing. She got in quickly and shut the door, turning the key and cranking up the heat before I could even make it around to the driver's side. I yanked it open, cracking the ice that was starting to form around the hinges. I got in the car, rubbing my hands vigorously together to try and warm them. Mich was thawing hers out by the vents of the heater, her hood still up and drawn tightly around her head so that only her face peeked out. I chuckled and leaned over, kissing her lips softly.

"You're cute as hell right now," I told her.

Mich shook her head. She never believed me.

"Yes," I said, putting the car into reverse. I backed out, turning the wheel slowly and tediously, just letting it roll out of the space gently. Once I was backed out, I switched the car into drive and slowly began rolling out of the parking lot toward the highway. The silence between us was heavy, only the blowing of the heater and the light hum of the engine filling the air. Maybe it was best if we didn't speak; what was there to say? I felt a hand touch my leg, Mich staring absently out the window. I reached down and picked it up, lifting it to my lips and placed a soft kiss on it. Mich smiled softly and looked over at me, turning her hand over to lace her fingers with mine after I placed our joined hands back on my knee. I heard her take a deep breath and she looked back out the window, lost in her own mind.

The truth about it all is that I wanted Mich on the road with me so I could watch over her. She seemed so stressed out and given her history of self-mutilation and suicide attempts, I didn't want her left alone. Granted she had her sisters and her friend Brandi checked on her daily, but I wanted to be able to watch her like a hawk at all times. I wasn't going to pressure her though, if she said she needed two weeks, I'd give her two weeks. I just wanted her safe. I loved her.

I pulled up to the airport half an hour after we left her place and paid the one-hour parking fee so we could sit and talk a while before I had to make a dash for security and the final boarding call. If I had to take a later flight, then so be it. I never slept anyhow.

"I don't want you to go," Mich said, staring at her lap. She'd since pulled her hood off and her hair was a frizzy mess, falling around her round face, obstructing my view of her. I reached over and tucked some behind her left ear so I could see her better. She looked up at me and tried to force a smile, but tears were threatening to fall from her blue eyes.

"Oh, darlin', don't cry," I brushed her cheek softly with my thumb. She nuzzled her face against my hand, her eyes closed as she tried to will the tears away. I damned the car for having a middle console and gear shift. I wanted to pull my girl to me and hold her as long as possible.

"I'm just really going to miss you. The last three days have been so great. I don't want it to end, ya know?"

"I know. But you know this is the way it's gonna be… Some weeks I won't get to come home at all. Some weeks you'll have me for one day, some you'll have me for three. This week we got lucky because we didn't have a Friday house show. But I promise baby girl, I'll always come home to you. And you can always come see me. Got it?"

Mich nodded, still holding my hand to her face. She took a deep breath and kissed my palm softly.

"I love you, Jon," she said.

It felt like the world stopped moving. The wind wasn't howling outside the car, there was no sound of airplanes taking off and landing, no cars passing over us in the parking garage overhead. Hell, I couldn't even hear myself breathe, let alone think. What the hell was I supposed to do? How did I respond? I loved her too, but I was terrified to admit that to her. The only way I knew to respond was to kiss the hell out of her, and I did. I pushed the button to release her seat belt followed by my own and I pulled her to me, across the gear shift and middle console, and crushed our mouths together, a low groan getting lost somewhere in the process.

"Not here," she mumbled against my mouth as she pecked my lips over and over. I nodded in agreement, rubbing her hip softly. I really wasn't trying to have sex with her again, though I wasn't opposed to the idea. I just didn't know how else to respond to her saying she loved me. I guess the ideal way would be for me to say it back, but I was afraid of what would happen if I did. The only person I told that I loved them these days was Joe, and he was my best friend.

"Can I walk you inside?" Mich asked.

"Please do," I responded. She moved clumsily back into her own seat and got out, opening the back door to get out my bag as I shut off the engine. I locked her car up and took my bag from her, kissing her forehead softly. She placed her hand in mine and we walked together into the airport. I checked myself in and dropped off my bag, a process that had become routine in the last few weeks since my debut on-screen. I pulled Mich down the lobby toward security. I had five minutes before my first boarding call would come, which meant half an hour until takeoff. It was time to say goodbye.

' _Man up, Jon.'_

"So this is it," she said.

I nodded solemnly. Damn, this sucked. I licked my lips and drew in a deep breath.

' _Just say it,'_ I told myself.

"Yeah. I'm gonna miss you, darlin'. Drive safe okay?" I tucked her hair behind her ears and kissed her forehead.

"I will. I'm gonna miss you too. But I'll see you on Wednesday, right?" Mich asked. I nodded again.

"I better go," I said as my boarding call came over the loudspeaker. Mich pulled away from me slowly.

"So…I'll see you later," she said.

"Wednesday," I replied, finally letting her go. I started toward the security line and stopped to turn and face her, "Mich?"

The world stopped again as she turned on her heels to look at me, this time the only thing I could hear was my heart pounding out of my chest, the sound of my blood rushing in my ears, exhaling through my nose slowly. I felt like I was going to be sick, I had never been this nervous to speak in my life.

"What is it baby?" she asked.

' _Don't be a fucking pussy, Jon. Say it, god damn it, say it!'_

"I love you."

"Jon! Hey bro!" one third of my partners ran up behind me at the loading gate for my flight. What the hell was Colby doing in Dallas?

"The hell are you doing here?" I asked him.

"Connection. Here, you left this in the john, I found it. " he handed my phone to me. I didn't remember laying it down when I took a piss before I came to get on the plane, but I guessed I had. I shoved it in my pocket and thanked him.

We boarded our flight and I pulled my phone out of my pocket to text Mich before we took off. She'd already texted me.

' **I miss you already.'**

' _ **I miss you too. Wednesday.'**_

' **Wednesday.'**

"Texting Mich?" Colby asked.

"Yup," I replied.

"How is she?" he asked.

' _Why the hell do you care?'_ I thought, shooting him a look. Colby just blinked at me, his glasses on, his half-blonde hair pulled up into a hat. I doubted any fans recognized him looking like that. _Lucky._ Normally I didn't mind being asked for pictures and autographs, but with this kid following me around like a lost puppy, I was going to be irritable. Colby wasn't really a kid, at least not if you compared our ages; I was only about six months older, but I felt like the age gap between us was at least a decade. I wondered momentarily why Mich wasn't into him. They liked the same music and stuff. He seemed more like her type; but she loved me, no matter how fucked up I was, and damn it, I loved her too. He couldn't have her. I leaned against the window, watching the earth pass by below us.


	12. Red Alert

After Jon's plane took off, I walked out to my car and started it, allowing the heater to warm up the interior before I took off. When my car was finally warmed up, I pulled out of the parking garage and slowly began making my way home. I had so much to do, I needed to clean and make room for Jon's few things. I could finally utilize my guest room for more than just a storage space since Jon had a bed that I had finally convinced him to bring along. I also needed to type up a resignation from my job. I had promised Jon I would. I had a feeling it would alleviate a lot of stress very quickly once I did.

I heard my phone chirp in my purse, a special alert I had set for Brandi. It repeated four times. Something serious was going on. I pulled into my parking lot and parked in my designated space, removing my phone from my purse before I cut the engine.

' **Miiiiich.'**

' **MICH!'**

' **FUCKING ANSWER ME MICH.'**

' **MICHELLE. RED FUCKING ALERT!'**

' _ **What?! What's wrong? Sorry, I was driving. In ice and snow. What's going on?'**_

My phone dinged again, this time a screenshot of a blog post.

I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. Someone had taken pictures of Jon and I at the airport from afar, paparazzi-esque photos of us holding hands and kissing were now all over the internet.

' _ **Fuck, B… He's gonna be pissed.'**_

' **That's not even all of it, Mich. There's a video too. Pictures of y'all on y'alls date the other night. Like this shit is creepy. Someone is stalking you guys!'**

' _Who would do such a thing? Who would be crazy enough to follow me and Jon around? Who knew about our relationship that would post shit on the internet? Fuck…Mike. Fucking…fuck face.'_

' _ **I'm willing to bet it's Mike's creepy ass following me around. Now I'm scared to be alone.'**_

' **I can't say I blame you. Lock it down, boo. I'll keep you posted if anything else comes up.'**

I needed to get in touch with Jon, to clarify this shit quickly. I scrolled to our text thread and opened it up.

' _ **Jon?'**_

' **Yeah babe?'**

' _ **We have a problem.'**_

' **What? '**

I took a deep breath and explained to Jon just exactly what had happened, what Brandi found on the blog and how I thought it may be Mike. Who else would it be besides some crazy fan? Whoever it was had been following us all weekend.

' **Let me find out he's stalking you. I'll kick his ass.'**

' _ **A lot of good that'll do. It'll just land you in jail. Don't do that. I'll figure it out.'**_

' **If it's him Mich, I'm kicking his ass. I don't give a damn. I can get out of jail. I've got the money.'**

' _ **Yeah and when WWE fires you?'**_

' **Good point. Damn it. I really wanted to kick his ass.'**

I giggled as I responded to Jon, changing the subject to something less stressful and angering. I told him my plans of turning our guest room into an actual guest room and arranged a date where we could go to Vegas to pick up his things. I sifted through the plastic totes and tubs that were stacked against the wall in the guest room, throwing out the trash and keeping just a few items that actually meant something to me. There were old pictures and bills thrown in them, along with a ton of useless crap I'd forgotten I had; collectors glasses from fast food joints, action figures, CDs, DVDs, books and magazines, all completely pointless. It was unreal to me how much none of it mattered anymore. I couldn't believe I was finally parting with all of the things I had clung to so desperately for so long. Jon seemed to open my eyes to all the toxicity in my life; he was like a breath of fresh, cleansing air that I didn't know I needed.

I took a look around the room, taking in how much progress I had made. There was so much I'd gotten rid of. I needed a dumpster outside my windows so I could just toss it all down, especially the black leather-bound photo album of pictures of me and Mike. I took a seat on the floor to take a moment to sift through the album in case there were other photos I wanted to keep. I took a deep breath and cracked the cover open. For the first time, I realized what everyone always told me. I always looked so sad when I was with Mike. I took the first photo out and ripped it into four pieces, stacked them on top of one another and ripped that stack in half. It gave me some kind of odd pleasure, ripping us apart like he had done to our relationship, or whatever it was. There were photos from his shows, of him on stage performing and photos of us afterward together. He didn't look at me the way Jon did. He didn't hold me close like Jon did. He didn't love me back like Jon did. I picked up my phone and texted my boyfriend.

' _ **I love you.'**_

' **I love you too.'**

There was absolutely nothing that compared to that feeling; being loved back, for once in my life, someone besides my sisters and my best friend _loved_ me.

I continued ripping apart photos. And with each rip and tear, I felt better and better.

It was after ten before I took a break to shower and eat, opting for a frozen entrée meal in the microwave and movies on my couch. I pulled the red fleece blanket off the back of the sofa onto me, inhaling the manly scent Jon had left behind on it. I noticed that everything seemed to smell like him; he lingered in the air like cigarette smoke, soaking into everything he touched. I could feel my eyelids getting heavier by the second, I was exhausted. While my couch was plenty comfortable, I knew the bed would be a better choice, so I forced myself to shuffle to the bedroom after ensuring that all of my doors and windows were locked. I didn't want to chance whoever was creeping on me coming in and taking more unwanted photographs.

Waking up to three missed calls from Jon; two the night before and one early in the morning, I realized I had passed out before I could get my goodnight phone call. I knew as soon as I opened my eyes it was nearly 9 am; the same time I woke up every day. I shoved my glasses onto my face and blinked so my eyes could adjust to the new, clear vision they gave me. I rolled over onto my side and pulled the pillows Jon had been sleeping on for the last three days to my chest and slid my thumb across the notification for his missed calls.

The phone made a sound as the call patched through and connected. It rang three times before Jon's voice answered, gruff and breathless.

I was worried that he would be angry with me about the photos for some reason. I couldn't control it though and I knew that. That was just another perk to depression and anxiety; blaming yourself for every little thing that went wrong.

"Hey beautiful," Jon panted into the phone. I could hear clanking in the background as weights were slid off of and onto dumbbells and the light thudding of his feet on the treadmill he was running on. Friday was cardio and upper body day.

I breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't mad, at least not at me.

"Hey," I yawned. I rolled out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen, just barely catching myself before I turned the coffee pot on. He wasn't home there was no need. Instead, I opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice and two eggs. I needed to make myself breakfast and get a shower before I went back to work that afternoon.

"Just waking up?" he asked me.

"Yeah, it was rough getting to sleep. Just thinking about those photos," I replied.

"Yeah, about that. I don't think it was Mike. If it was, there would have been photos of us at the bar, too, right? Plus, after I put him in his place, do you really think he'd be stupid enough to follow us around?"

Jon was right; why _would_ Mike stalk us and take photos of us? That would just be weird. Maybe it _was_ just some fan.

"Fair enough. So I'm handing in my notice tonight," I told him, changing the subject. I didn't want to talk about those photos or who may be stalking me and him when we were together. The whole situation made me anxious. Something just wasn't right about it all.

"Good. Get you the fuck out of that hell-hole. You're so damn miserable, babe. I don't like it. I want to see you happy."

What the hell I'd done to deserve such a wonderful man, I had no idea. I continued my conversation with Jon for a few more moments as I finished preparing my breakfast.

I plated my food and poured a cup of orange juice before ending the call with my boyfriend and scarfing my food down. I had less than two hours to shower, apply my makeup, find something to wear, and get to work. I was such a procrastinator; it had really become a problem in recent weeks as my morale had slipped down the drain. Being at the bottom could get lonely and cold. I was thankful for my best friend and two sisters who never let me be completely in the dark; whether it was by sending a good morning text or bringing me food and making sure that I ate; they took care of me. They approved of the newfound love of my life too, which meant the world. Having the people I was absolutely closest to tell me that they thought we were perfect for one another really felt great.

I was thankful for him too; randomly showing up on my doorstep to spend three days with me when he rarely got a day off to begin with was more than I could have ever asked for. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had something good going for me. He made taking a deep breath feel easy; something people take for granted every single day. My anxiety made it a struggle. I constantly felt like there was a palette of bricks sitting on my chest, crushing my lungs so slowly that every breath I took was more shallow than the last, depriving my cells of oxygen. When he was around, it became easier. The palette of bricks was gone; he would touch me ever so gently without even thinking about it, his fingertips grazing my arm or leg as we sat beside one another on the couch with the TV off, just absorbing the silence. No sound except for our breathing, slow and steady, inhale, exhale, repeat. I loved how at night when we slept, he'd turn over and pull me as close as he could, his right arm tucked under the pillows, his left around my waist. It gave me the deepest sense of comfort, allowing my body and mind to completely relax. What I wouldn't give for that right then, but alas, work called. The countdown was on to the last day; only twelve more shifts to go in my retail hell.

I had half a mind not to go, to just say 'fuck it', but I couldn't let myself do that. I sighed aloud, begrudgingly making my way from the kitchen to the bathroom. I had a little time for a quick shower, just long enough to wash my hair. I turned the knob all the way to hot, slowly stripping down out of my Nightmare Before Christmas pajama pants and black tank top. I tossed them into the wooden hamper that was built into the bathroom cabinetry, removed a towel from the clean stack inside the cupboard and laid it on the sink before removing my glasses and climbing into the shower. The water was too hot, slightly scalding my fair skin before I could tediously turn it down a notch. The steam filled the tiny enclosed space and I found myself once again longing for my boyfriend. The last time I'd showered had been with him. Of course, with him not there, the shower was much more spacious but I'd give up the extra space to have him next to me any day. I closed my eyes, letting the water wash over me, dampening my hair. I fumbled blindly for a bottle and squeezed its contents into my hand until I could feel that there was enough there to wash my dirty blonde locks. As I began to lather it into my hair, I couldn't help but notice it had a different smell than I was used to. I rinsed my hair thoroughly before once again blindly grabbing for the bottle, squinting to read the label. I laughed out loud when I realized it was Jon's body wash and not my shampoo. I'm sure he'd be just as surprised when he realized he'd grabbed my shampoo. I wondered what his friends would say when he walked out of work smelling like peaches, jasmine, and vanilla. I put the bottle back and turned off the shower, wrapping my towel tightly around my body. I rubbed a bit of leave-in conditioner into my wet hair and combed it through, watching my distorted reflection in the fogged-up mirror. I estimated I had nearly an hour left to get dressed and head out, which meant I could lie in my bed for forty-five minutes and air dry before I got dressed.

Somewhere in those forty-five minutes, I fell asleep. "Shit!" I screeched to the walls, rolling out of bed.

I quickly dressed myself, foregoing makeup and any sort of styling my hair. Once I was completely dressed, I threw my phone and a few bottles of water into my purse, pulled my keys from the kitchen counter and bolted out the door. I waited for my car to warm up for a few minutes before I tailed it out of the complex and down the highway to my store as fast as I could on the now-slushy roads. I thought about how carefully Jon drove on the ice, gripping the wheel with both hands as he did, his knuckles white, his face stoic with concentration. He'd only reach over every now and then to take a sip of his coffee or gently squeeze my hand, as if to let me know he was there. When I looked back and reflected on my past relationships, well, relationship, I never remembered feeling the way I did with Jon. It always felt like walking on eggshells, trying so hard to impress him every second of every day. Even after we went our separate ways, I blamed myself for our demise, much like everything else in my life. I always found ways to lay the blame on myself.

After work, I found myself at my sister Amanda's house, snuggled into her plush tan couch, petting her white bulldog, Uga, who was curled up into my lap. I hadn't gotten a chance to sit down and talk to her since the night at the bar and there was a lot I needed to get off my chest.

Amanda came from the kitchen with a mug in each hand and sat on the couch next to me. Uga looked at his mom and sighed, laying his head back in my lap. I smiled softly and continued to pet his head.

"So talk to me. What's going on in that pretty little head?" Amanda handed me a mug of hot cocoa, complete with a huge dollop of home-made whipped cream. I took a sip, careful to not burn my tongue.

"Some photos of Jon and I got leaked online," I told her, swirling the cocoa around in the mug. I watched as the mountain of whipped cream melted into the dark liquid.

"Oh no, what kind of photos?" she asked.

"Just… Photos of us out the other night on our date and photos of us at the airport. So far, no really personal photos but still. He's such a private person. I hate that this happened," I responded.

"No freakin' way!" she gasped, mouth ajar.

"I know! I know. And what else is weird is Jon keeps losing his phone. So we're terrified more pictures are going to leak; private pictures. Luckily, Colby always happens to find his phone and return it to him," I said.

"Do you think it could be him doing it?" she asked me.

"Colby?"

She nodded.

"I…I haven't thought about it. I mean he's one of Jon's really good friends. Do you really think it could be Colby?"

Amanda shrugged.

"I think anything is possible. It's just really weird to me that he just-so-happens to be there every time Jon loses his phone," she said.

I nodded in understanding. It _was_ weird, but I hated to suspect Colby. Though I had to admit, he did just pop up in random places, like at the airport, and the first night they debuted he seemed to follow Jon around like a lost puppy until he finally ran him off.

"I just hate to suggest it to Jon, ya know? I don't want him to think I'm suspecting his friends," I said.

"Understandable. How about if any personal photos leak, you approach him with the idea?"

I agreed with Amanda, but I really hoped no more photos leaked. I really didn't want our privacy invaded anymore than it had been. We finished our hot beverages and I told her about the airport and how Jon had told me that he loved me.

"If you listen carefully in the video the creeper posted, you can hear it," I laughed.

"Hey, at least there's a positive," she replied, laughing too.


	13. Handle With Care

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as the plane to Vegas took off down the tarmac. I was meeting my best friend Brandi there so I could pack Jon's apartment into his Bronco and drive back to Texas. He was in Europe for his first overseas tour. It had been a little over a month since the photos first leaked and, knock on wood, no more had leaked since then. He'd had Amanda and Blake drive me to the airport today. And every day that he wasn't home, one of them came to check on me and make sure my stalker hadn't shown up to chop me into bits.

I hated the sensation of taking off. I'd gotten slightly more accustomed to flying; I was never nervous at all anymore. Not since that first time when I'd met the love of my life. I smiled, my eyes still closed as I thought of the day we met, on the Southwest flight with the same destination; Dallas to Vegas, non-stop. Ironically enough, I boarded at the same gate. I had texted him to tell him but got no response. I didn't really expect one, as Texas was at least six hours behind where his show was that day. I breathed a sigh of relief as the plane leveled out, finally in the air. I opened my eyes slowly and took in the great state below me as the buildings and trees got smaller and smaller, cars now tiny specks on the highways below.

I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong across the pond, though. There was something just nagging me to death. Ever since our privacy had been invaded, my anxiety had been through the roof. I would call Jon when I landed; hoping maybe hearing his voice would soothe and calm my nervous mind. I looked forward to sleeping in his bed. I hoped that even though he hadn't been home in weeks, it might still smell like him. The flight was over before I knew it and after about a half an hour of waiting, we pulled up to our unloading gate. In no time I was heading down the escalator to baggage claim.

It was comforting to say the least when I got to the bottom of the escalator and Brandi was waiting for me at baggage claim. She was clad in a red and black plaid tunic, black leggings, and strappy studded combat boots, her fresh blonde and caramel brown braids twisted up on top of her head in two buns. Her makeup was on point, as always, so smoothly applied that you'd think she was airbrushed. I walked quickly to her and hugged her tightly, feeling my anxiety subside a bit.

"I was beginning to wonder. Your luggage got here before you did." she gestured to my bag that was at her side. I laughed, shaking my head.

"We had to wait for a gate. I guess they unloaded our luggage while we waited. At least you were here to get it," I replied. I took my luggage by the handle and fished my phone out of my purse, heading for the exit. I turned airplane mode off waiting for it to explode with text messages; hoping for one from Jon. To my dismay, only two came through; one from Brandi telling me she was waiting and another one from Amanda telling me to let her know when I got to Vegas safely. I hit reply on her message and sent a message letting her know I had made it safely and was on my way to Jon's apartment.

"You're probably right. Alright, let's go get some grub and head to the apartment," Brandi led me out to the parking lot where her green Toyota Camry was parked. She had driven the seven long hours to meet me in Vegas instead of flying; she said she could use a road trip, even if she had to drive alone.

"We should probably stop and get some trash bags and cleaning supplies too. I have no idea what we're walking into," I said.

She nodded. "Definitely GPS a dollar store or something,"

We stopped first to get the cleaning supplies and garbage bags. There were supposed to be boxes and packing tape at the apartment if we needed them, but Jon didn't think we would. I had been given one strict instruction; the coffee pot was to be strapped into the harness and ride all the way to Texas that way. I think coffee and wrestling were the only things he loved more than he loved me. And right after me was Wendy's chicken nuggets.

Brandi pulled up to the gated complex and punched in the code Jon had given us to enter. We parked in a guest parking spot as I spied his Bronco right away; backed into the spot in front of the stone stairway to his place. I fished his key out of my wallet before grabbing my luggage out of the back seat and making my way up the stairs with Brandi behind me. I unlocked the locks carefully and entered the dark apartment. I fumbled around for a light switch, fully prepared for a disaster area when the lights came on.

The apartment was as empty as Jon had described it, the white walls completely barren except for a large poster of him from his days in Florida that WWE had framed and sent to him. It was hung very crookedly on a too small nail. How it hadn't fallen, I wasn't entirely sure. There were all of the standard appliances in the kitchen. The counter tops were littered with unopened mail, protein powder canisters, fast food bags and take out boxes stacked three and four high.

"This place reeks. How does he sleep here?" Brandi asked. She fished a can of air freshener out of one of the dollar store sacks and sprayed it in the kitchen area.

"No idea, but we've got to get rid of these fast food boxes first. I'm sure that's what smells," I spoke as I opened the box of trash bags, taking a few bags out before opening one and started tossing the take out trash into it immediately.

"You do that. I'm gonna light a candle… Or twelve," Brandi replied.

I bagged the trash quickly and unlocked the sliding glass door, sitting it on the balcony so we could take it out later with the rest of the trash we were sure to find. After we cleared all the trash off, Brandi began scrubbing the counters while I started packing all of his coffee mugs and his coffee maker carefully into a box and surrounded it all with bubble wrap and packing peanuts that were already inside. In black letters on the outside in Jon's scratchy writing were the words "COFFEE POT AND MUGS – FRAGILE – HANDLE WITH EXTREME CAUTION BABE. I LOVE YOU".

I laughed out loud, causing Brandi to look up at me from her scrub job. I gestured to the box.

"He uh, he prepared a box for his coffee pot," I said through my laughter.

"He's cute. Weird, but cute. Damn coffee fiend," she said with a shake of her head.

"He is adorable… and sweet...I love him," I said. I taped the box shut and sat it by the door moving on to the closet in the living room. There wasn't much there except for a few jackets, boots, and some unused luggage. I packed the clothing and boots into the suitcases and moved them next to Jon's precious cargo.

Brandi and I worked hard for the next hour until we were done. Jon hadn't been exaggerating when he said he didn't own much. We collapsed into his bed, both exhausted from traveling and cleaning.

"You heard from him yet?" Brandi asked.

"No and it worries me. I mean, he does have a dinosaur-ish phone. He may not have service over there. I just really miss him. I'm not used to going to bed without talking to him," I told her.

"You've got it so bad," she laughed and patted my arm, "but you'll be okay. I know it probably sucks. Just get some rest. Maybe when you wake up he'll be in a better service area and he can call."

I sighed and nodded. "You're right. I'm beat. Let's get some shut eye."

I turned over onto my side and hugged Jon's pillow close to my chest, deeply breathing in his scent. I missed him so much, but my exhaustion took over and my eyes fell shut quickly. I woke the next morning to my phone ringing. It was harshly vibrating the makeshift bedside table next to me. I scrambled for it, falling off the mattress onto the floor.

"Hello?!" I answered groggily.

"Babe! I lost my phone! I'm calling from Joe's. Did you make it to Vegas?" Jon asked.

"Yeah baby, I made it. God, I'm so glad to hear your voice. I miss you," I replied, unplugging my phone and quietly slipping out of the bedroom.

"I miss you too. Hey listen, I need you to go get me a phone and put it on your plan. You can bring it to me Monday," Jon said.

"Okay… I can do that. I'll even teach you how to use it and everything," I told him.

"You're a damn good woman. Have I mentioned I love you?" he asked.

I laughed. "Not today," I said.

"I love you. Shit. I gotta go, okay? I'll see you Monday in Philly. I love you," Jon hung up before I could respond.

I looked at the clock on the stove. It was barely after five in the morning and it was still dark outside. The only light came from the strip in the distance. I yawned, hoping I could go back to sleep. I quietly entered the bedroom and got back into the bed trying my hardest not to wake Brandi, but she was already awake.

"Was that Jon Boy?" she asked.

"It was. He lost his phone so he called from Joe's. I've gotta go get him a phone tomorrow and take it with me on Monday," I replied.

"Did he at least erase all of those photos?" she asked.

"Yeah, they're all gone. We deleted them after the first pictures leaked. I think I'm gonna get him an iPhone so we can FaceTime and such, ya know?"

Brandi nodded. "You gonna go back to sleep?" she asked.

"Doubt it. You?"

"Nope."

We decided to go ahead and get up and start packing the truck before the sun came up. According to our phones, we had roughly two hours before that happened. I suggested a quick breakfast before we got started. I had noticed a small diner on the way in. It was about a mile up the road and recalled Jon mentioning it as one of his favorite places to get an omelet when he was at home. We quickly dressed and headed out.

We ate our breakfast, making small talk and laughing as we did. I told Brandi about how Jon had completely forgotten his own birthday and had nearly forgotten Christmas as well. I told her how he was my first ever New Year's Kiss; I had fallen asleep and he knew I'd never had one, so he woke me up at 11:59 to make sure I got my kiss. I could tell by the little things that he did that he really meant what he said. He really did love me.

Seeing Brandi become slightly uncomfortable with all my mushy lovey-dovey talk, I changed the subject to finding an AT&T store close by after we were done packing the Bronco.

"So do you think it was Colby?" Brandi asked referring to Jon's stolen phone.

"I don't know. Maybe. I mean, at least he's the one that usually returns it," I laughed.

"Have you mentioned it to Jon yet?"

I shook my head. "I don't want to point fingers. I've said that it's odd that Colby always returns it, but his comeback was that regardless of the fact that Colby's an annoying little shit, they're brothers and Colby is just being a good friend," I told her.

Brandi sighed and shook her head. "I just hope nothing else gets leaked out. For you guys sake," she said.

"Yeah. Me too. You done?" I asked.

Brandi nodded and slid out of the booth. We made our way to the register as I took a twenty out of the envelope Jon had stuffed with cash for my trip. I handed the cashier the bill and we headed back out to Brandi's car. After a quick pit stop for a few bottles of water to get us through our packing, we finally made it back to Jon's apartment. It was just barely after seven now, the sun was bright and blindingly shining over us. The morning was still cool and crisp. It felt more like fall than winter in the desert, but I had no complaints. It would be great weather for packing a truck.

Once inside, we immediately got to work, starting with his coffee maker box that I carefully carried down the stairs and placed in the front seat, making sure to strap it in per his instructions. I locked the front of the truck up and shut the heavy door. Brandi had followed, carrying the large picture frame that hosted Jon's promotional photo from FCW and slid it into the bed of the Bronco. We had found the plastic bubble wrap and box it had been shipped to him in; the box was far beyond use but the bubble wrap was salvageable. We had re-wrapped the photo for safe traveling, all whilst Brandi teased me about how well it would match my décor in my apartment back home.

"Alright. Back upstairs… Shit, we're gonna get a workout today," I said.

"Yeah, no shit," Brandi replied as we traipsed back up the stone steps. Once we reached the top, I noticed Jon's apartment door had been left slightly opened. I'd have to make sure we shut it behind us this time. I didn't want any stray critters getting in; Jon had warned me about the scorpions and lizards that would get in from time to time. I didn't do well with small rodents or reptiles. I pushed open the door and grabbed another box, sitting it outside the front door. Brandi did the same.

"I've gotta pee before we go back out. I'll be right back," she told me.

I nodded, pulling my hair back into a ponytail. "Go ahead," I replied.

Brandi's footsteps padded down the hall as I played with my ponytail in the reflection of a mirror the apartment came furnished with, trying to get the bumps and lumps out of it.

"Mich, I think you left the water running this morn-" Brandi's sentence ended with a shrill scream and then I heard a loud smack; something that sounded like a fist colliding with a jaw.

"OW! What the fuck!?" a deep male voice bellowed. I could feel my entire body start to tremble. Was my stalker in the apartment? Was I about to die?

"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in Jon's apartment?! Fuck! Mich! Call the cops!" Brandi yelled as she ran down the hall toward me. A large, muscular man clad in jeans, a red buffalo plaid shirt on over a black v-neck and black biker boots followed her down the hall. My breath caught in my chest in fear. He was taller than Jon and much broader in the shoulders; he had to be almost seven foot tall.

"No, no! Don't do that! Fuck! Jon sent me. Look. He texted me like two days ago and asked me to help you girls pack his truck. He even told me where his spare key was. Swear to God. Please don't call the cops," the big man said, holding up his phone with one hand, his other pressed to his jaw where Brandi's fist had collided with his face.

Brandi took the phone as I stood next to her to read the texts. Sure enough, Jon had texted the big man and asked him to help us. I just wished that he had told me he was sending someone to help so we wouldn't have been so caught off guard. I especially wished he hadn't told this guy where the spare key was so he could just let himself in. I learned from the texts that the guy's name was Tom and he worked with Jon's company in the developmental territory, NXT. He was in Vegas for the week and when Jon had contacted him to ask if he could come help us for a bit, he'd agreed.

Brandi handed his phone back to him carefully. "Here ya go, Tom."

"Thanks and uh… You can both call me Tommy, if you'd like."

"Tommy it is then," Brandi spoke for the both of us as she tried to hold back a smirk.

He nodded and tried to hide fact that he was staring a hole through her before he spoke again.

"So uh, since you jaw-jacked me, can I get some ice?" he asked with a slight laugh. He looked Brandi over again, taking in every bit of her from head to toe. He was a bit weary though; she had a mean accidental right hook. Her cheeks flushed pink as she nodded, walking away to the kitchen. Luckily Jon had ice packs galore stashed in his freezer. She handed him one and took one for her own fist.

I noticed the big man's voice soften as he asked Brandi if she was okay.

"I'm fine but you scared the shit out of me," she replied.

"Listen. I'm really, really sorry. I figured Jon would've told you guys I was coming," Tommy told her.

"No, he didn't. He lost his phone," Brandi answered.

"Explains why he never told me you guys were here. Are you sure you're okay?" he asked her again.

"Fine, really."

I watched them from the living room, careful not to interrupt. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And was he ever her type; tall, dark hair, dark eyes, and covered in tattoos. He had a strong build and a nice, deep voice. I had a feeling this wasn't the last time I'd see Tommy.

"I guess we better go get this truck loaded," he said after they spent a few minutes icing their wounds.

"Guess so," Brandi tossed her ice pack back into the freezer and exited the kitchen, shaking her hand out.

I gave her a small smirk. We'd have to chat later.

"No," she spoke with a chuckling lilt, shaking her head.

I laughed and picked up a box. She was totally into him whether she wanted to admit it or not. And judging by the way he looked at her, he was into her too.

After about an hour, the truck was completely packed. We were all sitting on the stone steps chatting about wrestling; though I have to admit, Brandi and Tommy had done most of the talking while I just sat and listened. After a while, it got too hot to sit outside. Brandi and I had a hotel booked for the night so we could be well rested before heading back to our homes the next morning. After handing the keys in to the office and checking twice to make sure we hadn't forgotten anything, we headed to the hotel. Brandi got into her car and I into the Bronco and we started down the highway to the hotel where we had stayed before; Tommy passed us quickly on his motorcycle, taking off to get back to his vacation.

We parked in a gated garage across from the hotel and walked across the street to get checked in. Brandi and I had both agreed on a nap before we decided to do anything out on the town that evening; packing a truck and moving was exhausting.

Our room this time was much smaller than the last; we didn't have a large suite to stay in. Instead, it was a regular room with two queen beds covered in red and gold comforters that matched the draperies over the windows. The floor was carpeted, the same color red and gold as the blanket and curtains. There was a flatscreen TV that sat atop a dresser, a mini fridge and microwave on a table next to the dresser, along with a small dinner table. The bathroom was quite spacious with a large shower and Jacuzzi tub; I for one looked forward to relaxing in that later in the evening. I laid my bag on the floor and sprawled onto one of the beds, sinking into the soft mattress and pillows as the bed seemingly wrapped itself around every dip and curve on my body. I remembered our previous trip to Vegas and how much I loved the beds at this hotel then. Brandi too sank into her bed, letting out a loud groan.

"I forgot how comfy these beds were until I just laid down," she said.

"Me too," I laughed. I rubbed my face and took a glance at the clock on my phone. It was only 2:30. We had plenty of time to nap before the night started.

"So what time do you want to get up?" I asked Brandi, pulling up my alarm.

"Hmm, maybe like four?" she suggested, snuggling down into the blankets on her bed.

I set my alarm and laid the phone on the bedside table, turning over on my side to nap. I heard a loud sigh from the bed next to me just as my eyes began to close. I giggled softly. This was a perfect opportunity to pick my best friend's brain and give her shit about having an instant crush.

"Thinking about the big biker man?" I asked.

"No!" Brandi replied swiftly.

I giggled again and turned to face her. "You so are! You're blushing!" I pointed out.

Brandi pulled the cover over her head and let out a long, howling 'no'. I could tell she was into him with the way she stared at him, listening attentively when he spoke. He seemed to be into her too, watching her every move; he made sure to walk just a bit behind her when we went back and forth from the apartment to the truck, watching her hips sway when she walked.

"He's… He's beautiful, Mich. Like damn," Brandi admitted, finally pulling the blanket down from over her head.

"Aww, you have your own personal creep-boy now," I said, laughing, "It's cute."

Brandi shook her head. Granted, it was a little odd that she was overwhelmingly attracted to the guy that she had punched in the face just hours before. She was just being a defensive best friend; for all we knew Tommy was my stalker.

"Think he'll forgive me for punching him in the jaw?" she asked.

I laughed and nodded. "If you saw how he looked at you, yeah. He'll forgive you. He was practically watching your every move. Did you notice how when you'd pick up a heavy box he'd rush to take it from you? Then here I come pulling the mattress and he just lets me go with it. I almost fell down the steps like eight times," I said.

"He did not rush to my side," Brandi rolled her eyes, still blushing.

"He so did. How's your hand?" I asked.

"Hurts like a bitch. I think I need more ice. Go with me?" she replied.

I nodded and threw the cover off of me, swinging my legs out over the side of the bed and stretching before I got up; napping would've been great, but it wasn't happening. Brandi grabbed the bucket off the bathroom counter and a room key before we headed out. We padded down the hall chattering about the moving session that morning; which mostly consisted of me picking on her about Tommy. We rounded the corner into the tiny room that contained the ice and vending machines. We were immediately met by none other than the near-seven-foot-tall biker that had helped us move earlier in the day. I smirked at Brandi and pretended to browse the snack options in the vending machines as he started a conversation with her.

"Oh… Uh, hey, Brandi," Tommy said. I saw him run a hand over his dark hair in the reflection of the snack machine.

"Tommy," she replied coyly.

"How's the hand?" he asked her.

"Hurts like hell. How's your jaw?"

"Hurts like hell. You guys are staying here too?" he asked.

Brandi nodded.

"You got plans tonight?" he asked. I saw her glance at me in the reflection of the plexiglass and shook my head. Our plans could wait. I could fly her out to Dallas any time and we could hang out. It wasn't every day she found a decent guy she was truly interested in that was specifically her type. I could spend the afternoon getting Jon's new phone and doing a little shopping. I'd be just fine if she wanted to go on a date with biker boy.

"No, not at all," she replied.

"Can… I take you to dinner?" he offered.

I smiled. I was excited for my friend.

Brandi smiled broadly, "Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that. I'm in room 354, if you wanna come by and pick me up later," she responded.

I had to really try to keep myself from squealing in excitement. That would have to wait until we got into the room away from Tommy. I was sure B didn't want him to hear us acting like teenage girls.

"I'll be there at 8," Tommy smiled and exited the room with his bucket of ice, presumably for his jaw.

Once we were certain he was gone, we took a second to freak out a bit.

"Aw hell, I've gotta go get ready. It's going to take me forever," Brandi hurried out of the vending room and down the hall to the elevator, pressing the down button furiously.

"B, it's not gonna come any faster no matter how many times you push it," I laughed.

Brandi shot me a dirty look and went back to pushing the button quickly.

"At this rate we could have already been back in our room if we'd taken the stairs," I said.

"No kidding," she replied. The elevator finally dinged and opened its doors for us to enter. We stepped inside and she began wracking her brain as to what she would wear on her date. She hadn't really packed anything appropriate, so a quick shopping trip was in order. I searched the internet for the closest mall and found that one of the hotels a few blocks away had a Forever 21 inside. We hopped into her car and sped off down the strip. We looked for the closest parking spot possible and practically sprinted to Forever 21. Luckily it wasn't too far of a run for us.

"God, I hope they have something I can wear," Brandi said as she began shuffling through the clearance racks.

"Where are you guys even going?" I asked, moving to the next rack; with both of us looking maybe we'd find something quicker. Brandi threw up her hands and shrugged.

"Hell if I know. He didn't say. But he's a biker, so I need to look like I fit with him. Ooh! Slipknot tee, all slashed up too," Brandi held up a cut up, faded band tee. The back had slashes all the way from the neck to the bottom hem, the neck cut to widen the top so that it would hang off the shoulder, and the sleeves completely gone. It was faded and had tiny holes in it so that it truly looked vintage and it was clearance to boot.

"Your size?" I asked.

"Yup. So I've got a top, done. I have my black skinnies in my bag. I need something to go over this and a pair of shoes," Brandi replied.

I held up a pair of black moto boots that had been sitting on top of the rounder.

"What size?" she asked.

"Yours, they're a ten," I replied.

"I know they'll fit then. Get 'em. Oh, and this," Brandi slipped on a black faux leather jacket with studded shoulders and silver zippers over her t-shirt and did a turn. She was going to look so amazing for her date with Tommy.

"That's banging, dude. I love it," I said.

"Then we're done. Let's go, because it's gonna take me like two hours to get my face on," she exaggerated.

We ran into a bit of traffic getting back but not enough to delay Brandi's process. She quickly showered and started priming her face; after her foundation was evenly applied she began working on her eyes, firstly applying a line of deep black liquid liner, drawing out the ends and giving them a dramatic cat eye effect.

"Wings so sharp they could cut a bitch," I joked.

"Yeah, no shit," Brandi laughed, tediously applying glue to a set of fake lashes. I was quiet as she applied them so I wouldn't break her concentration. Our conversation picked back up when she was finished. She curled her new false lashes to her natural ones and finished them off with a thick coat of black mascara, carefully removing any clumps that may have collected.

"Alright. What color lip should I do?" Brandi asked digging in her makeup case. There was a vast array of colors from black to purple to coral. This time, we decided on Heroine by MAC, a nice purple shade with pink undertones.

"Alright, B. Your outfit is hanging on the back of the door. I'm gonna step out and let you get dressed," I told her.

"Thanks boo. Really, thank you. I'd have had a meltdown if I didn't have you," she replied.

I smiled softly and stepped out, closing the door behind me so she could get dressed for her date. I didn't mind being left alone, really. I could probably get Jon to FaceTime me on his iPad I had gotten him for Christmas and make a trip to the AT&T store I'd found when Brandi and I went to the mall to get his new phone. Then when and if Brandi made it in before sunlight, I could hear all about her date. I was genuinely excited for my friend; she had been single as long as or longer than I had. We both gave up at nearly the same time and now here we were with me in a committed relationship and her readying for her first date in many years. Vegas had been a good city for both of us.

Brandi exited the bathroom dressed head to toe in the outfit we had picked out for her date. She looked so badass and beautiful at the same time. She was going to fit right in with Tommy. And I'm sure wherever he took her, they'd fit in with the crowd. She was sure to stand out, though; her beauty was striking and though she didn't see it, everyone around her did. She was gorgeous. I couldn't wait to see Tommy's face when he came to get her.

I didn't have to wait long to see Tommy's reaction; it was nearly 7:30 by the time Brandi was done getting ready and he arrived five minutes early to pick her up, dressed simply in dark washed blue jeans, a black v-neck t-shirt, a destructed customized denim vest and black shit-kicker motorcycle boots completed his outfit.

"Hey Brandi…" He eyed her from head to toe and back up again. "Uh… Mich," Tommy waved, making an effort to be polite.

I nodded and gave a friendly wave in return.

"Hey," Brandi was nervous, I could tell; she joined him in the hallway slowly. She looked unsure of herself but I gave her a small smile, assuring her everything would be just fine. If Jon trusted him, he couldn't be all that bad.

"Bring her home in one piece, Tommy," I instructed.

"Yes ma'am," he replied, and they were gone.

As soon as they were out the door, I readied myself to go pick up Jon's new phone. Along the way I stopped into a few stores, searching for something to wear when I was up north the following week with my boyfriend. It never got cold in Vegas, but I wanted to have a nice outfit in case we decided to go out with any of his coworkers. Part of me wanted to find something ultra sexy to wear for Jon, but he honestly couldn't care less about lingerie or if my bra and panties matched. He once told me that the sexiest he had ever seen me was in a t-shirt of his and my underwear. He could barely keep his hands off of me that night.

Once back in the room, I checked the time in Scotland and sent a FaceTime request to Jon's iPad. After a few rings, he finally picked up, clearly fresh out of the shower. He was in his hotel room, his hair soaked and matted to his head. He looked absolutely exhausted and I hated it because I knew he didn't sleep well to begin with. Being in a different country in a whole different time zone was hell on someone with insomnia like his. It was his day off though; he had the entire day to just relax. It was rare that on an overseas tour he even got a day off. He was going to take full advantage of this one and sleep as much as he could.

We chatted a bit about Tommy and Brandi and he offered an apology for not letting us know that Tommy was coming to help. He asked three times if his coffee pot was okay and I couldn't help but laugh at how silly and protective he was over the damn thing.

"I miss you," I said, lying down in the bed. Jon was snuggled down into his bed in his hotel room, barely awake.

"I miss you," he mumbled back; his sleepy voice was in full effect and it was honestly one of the sexiest things I'd ever heard. There was something about it that made me just want to ravage him.

"Baby, let me hang up so you can sleep," I said.

"No," he protested. The iPad was propped up against the lamp on the bedside table in his hotel room; his body too tired to even hold onto it. My eyes were getting heavy as well, hours had passed since Brandi and Tommy left. It was now nearing midnight in Las Vegas and the day was catching up to me. This wouldn't be the first or the last time Jon and I would fall asleep together on FaceTime, of that I was one hundred percent sure.

I told Jon goodnight sleepily and we ended our call. I wasn't expecting Brandi until well into the night, so I allowed myself to fall asleep; closing my eyes and falling deeply into a much-needed slumber. I woke before the sun and glanced at the bed next to me. Brandi still hadn't made it in, but my last text from her was just an hour old; letting me know she was alright and that they were at a diner having breakfast. I clicked on the message to reply.

 _'_ _Is he having you for breakfast?'_ I texted.

I got no response; instead the door opened and I heard Brandi and Tommy exchange goodbyes softly, first with words and finally, I could hear the soft sounds of them kissing goodbye. I was giddy with excitement. I lied still so they wouldn't notice that I was awake; it was somewhat awkward at times having your friends or family or both stare at you as you kissed your boyfriend. I didn't want to make this awkward for Brandi at all. After they finally broke their kiss, Brandi said goodnight and shut the door behind her. I first heard two soft thuds as she removed her boots and the sound of fabric dropping as her jacket was dropped on top of her suitcase. She sighed a loud, giddy school girl sigh before face planting into her pillows and letting out a stifled squeal.

I laughed out loud. I'd never heard or seen her like this. I couldn't wait to hear the details.

"Shit. Did we wake you? I'm sorry," Brandi apologized.

"No, I was awake. So, how was it?" I asked, sitting up in the bed. I turned and sat facing her direction, turning on the lamp on the table between our beds.

"Perfect, we went to the House of Blues and Stone Sour was playing," she started.

"Well, I meant the kiss, but go on about the date," I smiled.

Brandi's cheeks flushed pink at the mention of the kiss; she threw one of the hotel's pillows at me, narrowly missing my face. Both of us laughed uncontrollably for a few moments afterward.

"Jerk," she laughed, continuing, "But no, for real Mich. He was such a gentleman, when we were walking to his bike—"

I held up my hand to cut her off. I couldn't picture her on a motorcycle.

"You rode on his bike? Weren't you scared?" I asked.

She shrugged, "Of course I was scared. I tried to talk him into taking my car but he convinced me otherwise; I told him I was down to try new things and have new experiences so he made me really comfortable. He talked me through the whole thing. He gave me his helmet to wear and fastened it on me," Brandi said. If emojis were real, B would have been the one with the hearts for eyes at that moment in time.

"Go on," I encouraged her.

"So, he got on and helped me on behind him. And he reached back and wrapped my arms around his middle and girl… He's so damn built. His arms are rock hard and his chest is so solid. He's the perfect height for me too, but I noticed that way before we got on the bike. The whole time we rode, I held onto him so tight," Brandi was full-on swooning now over Tommy. She seemed happier than I'd ever seen her and I hoped this worked out for her.

She took a breath, letting it out slowly and continued.

"So, we get to the House of Blues and I tell him that I've never been here before and that it's really cool. So he tells me that he has a surprise for me before dinner. So of course, you know me, I'm like OK… What is it? He's like nah, it's a surprise. So he leads me through the restaurant and the gift shop into the concert area and I'm like okay… Who's playing? So we wait around a bit and there's music playing while the bands are changing out. So I start dancing around being silly, ya know? Bumping him with my hips and swaying along to the beat. He's just grinning the whole time, like this stupid shit-eating grin. So, the lights go down and the curtain pulls back, it's Stone Sour. Fucking Stone Sour! So I asked him, how the hell did he know I was into them? And he gives me that shit-eating grin and shrugs like, oh, it was a lucky guess. And ya know, we're headbanging and singing along and I keep bumping him with my hip until he finally pulls me in front of him and just puts his hands on my hips and holds me there. Eventually, we ended up standing towards the back of the crowd with his arms draped over my shoulders. Like, his arms were folded, but his front was still to my back. I don't even know how to describe that feeling, Mich. Like… Is this how you feel?" she asked me.

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it is. Keep going. I like hearing about this," I told her.

"So after the show, we waited for the crowd to clear out some then we went to get food in the restaurant. He held my hand the whole time. I mean like while the crowd was clearing out, while we waited to be seated and even through most of the meal. And speaking of the meal, we had the most delicious food. The jambalaya was so good dude; so good. And then we went for a long ride down the strip, nice and slow. Just enjoying the scenery, ya know? We stopped at the Bellagio and watched the fountain show. And… He kissed me. That was our first kiss. It felt like… Like something I had been missing was momentarily found. I was so good, but so fucking weird." She chuckled at the end of her sentence.

"Aww, tell me more," I said.

Brandi continued on until we both started nodding off; both of us unable to hold our eyes open a second longer. I had already set an alarm for 10:30 so we could be checked out by noon. It was going to be a long, lonely drive back to Dallas. I was going to miss my best friend. I'd have to do some sweet talking to Jon and get her some comp tickets the next time WWE came to her town for sure. For now, it was time to say goodbye though; time to get our sluggish, exhausted asses out of the big, white fluffy cloud beds and drive home. I wouldn't even get an entire day at home before I had to leave again. Luckily my sisters would be waiting with strong manly-male friends to help unload the Bronco when I got back to Dallas.

I rolled out of bed when the alarm went off and began to pack my things away and readied myself by dressing in comfy clothes for the eighteen hour drive; leggings, a soft t-shirt of Jon's, and my most comfortable combat boots. I put on my glasses and pulled my hair up into a loose ponytail. There was no way I was getting dressed in jeans to drive for that long. This would be the longest drive I'd ever made, the longest prior being fifteen hours. I hoped I could make it all in one shot so I didn't have to spend more of Jon's money to get a hotel room. Brandi and I said our goodbyes and went our separate ways after we had lunch at the buffet in the hotel. I had no idea how Jon did it every day; day in and day out he was in a different city, running on fumes – powered by coffee and chicken nuggets.


	14. Untitled Chapter

I boarded my second plane in a week, heading this time for Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to welcome my boyfriend home from his first European tour with the WWE. Flying was getting easier and easier. I no longer got anxious waiting in security lines and no longer fretted about missing my plane during a layover. The only time I got anxious was when I was flying to see Jon. I always got so impatient and cranky; everyone was in my way and coming between us and that shit was not okay by any means. I took a few deep breaths and tried to relax, closing my eyes as we took off.

The day before I flew out, I had gotten Jon's Bronco safely back to Dallas and slowly began trickling boxes in with the help of my sisters. They helped me drag his bed up the stairs and set it up on a frame Amanda had in storage. Now we had a full sized bed in the empty room I had used as storage since I moved in and I officially no longer lived alone.

"How does it feel having a live-in boyfriend?" Blake asked as we unpacked Jon's boxes. I carefully placed his coffee maker on the counter in place of the one I had and arranged his cups in the cabinet, leaving his favorite one out so that he could find it when he got home.

"It's different. When he's here everything feels…I don't know, different. I'm used to sleeping alone and waking up to an empty apartment. I'm used to cooking for one person or ordering in because I don't want to go out. I'm accustomed to doing one person's laundry. Now I do everything for two. I have a routine. I pick him up early on Wednesday mornings and take him to the airport on Friday mornings," I shrugged to end my sentence. It was different now, but not in a bad way. I was finally in a routine that wasn't stressful to me. I didn't wake up every morning regretting that I was alive. Jon had changed my life so much in the short amount of time that we had known each other and I knew there was no possible way I could ever repay him.

I took my carry on from the overhead compartment and my purse before quickly exiting the plane after we landed. This was the part where I got anxious, having all of the other passengers crowd around me, everyone pushing to get off. I'd learned to pack lightly, to stuff everything in a carry-on bag and skip the checked bag if at all possible. Once I finally got out, I bolted for the escalator as fast as I could, looking for my boyfriend as I rode it down. I spotted him waiting in a chair, his back to me; his blonde curls were sticking out from underneath a camo ball cap. I felt a smile spreading across my face and I just couldn't wait. I took the last steps two at a time until I reached the bottom and nearly sprinted to him. I wrapped my arms around him from behind, kissing his cheek over and over.

"Woah. Hey," he smiled, turning toward me. He placed a soft kiss on my lips. I couldn't help but notice how tired his eyes looked. I rubbed his shoulders and kissed him again.

"I missed you," I said.

"I missed you baby. A ton," he replied.

"You ready?" I asked.

Jon nodded then stood and stretched, his shirt lifting up exposing his midriff as he did. He picked up his leather jacket and pulled it back on. He then took my bag into his hand and threw his free arm around me. I buried my face into his side, breathing his scent in. He had a particular scent, one that not every girl would probably say smells great. He smelled like a big redneck wrestler- like leather and bourbon mixed with a little bit of Right Guard deodorant and Old Spice body wash. It was comforting.

Jon laughed and squeezed my shoulder gently.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Smelling you," I replied, looking up finally.

Jon gave me that shit-eating grin of his. I loved that smile so much.

"Let's go back to the hotel for a bit," he said, kissing my head. He walked us to his rental car, a black Chevy covered in residue from the snowy mess that still covered the roads and highways of Pennsylvania. Once the car was warm enough to drive, Jon easily navigated it to the hotel without the help of a GPS or map; he knew his way around this town well – he had lived here for many years when he wrestled in the independent circuit – mostly for a Philly based promotion called Combat Zone Wrestling, or CZW. I was somewhat thankful we weren't together in those days. I don't know if my fragile heart could have handled all the pain he endured. I cringed enough now watching him wrestle. I hated the idea of him being in pain.

Our car ride was quiet for most part; we were just content being with one another. We arrived to the hotel rather quickly despite the road conditions and traffic. The arena was visible from the room, which meant we could relax for quite a while before the show. Jon kicked off his boots and tossed his jacket onto the spare queen sized bed. He looked absolutely drained; I imagined the jetlag from his overseas tour was nagging at him and he still had two more shows to do before he got two days off. I heard the buckle on his belt jingle and a soft sound as his ripped up jeans hit the floor.

"Come here," he patted the plush bed as he settled in. I too shed my coat and shoes before crawling into bed with him. I cuddled him close, comforted by the combination of the warmth of his body, the heavy white down comforter, and his scent. He was freshly showered, the smell of his body wash was strong and still lingered in the room, wet towels laid on the red and gold carpeted floor and draped across the black rolling chair sat by the dark oak desk in the corner. Jon's suitcase laid on the other bed, now covered by his jacket, a mesh sack of dirty laundry next to it.

"I love you," he mumbled sleepily into my neck before placing a scruffy kiss at the hollow of my throat. He tightly wrapped his toned arms around me before slowly closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. I smiled softly and placed a kiss on his forehead, running my fingers through his thick curly hair. It almost seemed creepy to think of watching him sleep, but I couldn't very well move. I did however locate the television remote on the table behind Jon's head and reached carefully to grab it. I turned the TV onto a cooking channel and laid awake in his grasp, gently rubbing his head all the while.

After two episodes of Chopped, I decided it was probably time to wake Jon up. His stomach had been violently growling in his sleep; I had no idea how he hadn't woken up already. I started by untangling myself from his grasp, which caused him to stir a bit before he reached for me again.

I giggled softly, averting his grasp by lacing my hand with his as he tried to grab me again.

"No," he groaned.

"Come on. Up. Food, then you have to go to work," I told him.

"No," he grunted, burying his face in my chest and sank his teeth gently into my right breast just lightly nipping at the skin.

"Jonathan, don't you dare," I said. He chuckled softly and kissed it instead of sinking his teeth further.

I rubbed his head and placed a kiss on his nose.

"Thank you," I said, "you can mark me later. But not before I go to work with you. Okay?"

"Alright. Let's go," he said, rolling out of bed. He stretched and yawned, letting out a loud groan. I watched him closely and rolled into the spot he'd been in; it was warm and cradled my body perfectly where the plush mattress was still sunken in.

Jon pulled on his jeans and started packing a bag to take to the arena as I laid in his spot, watching. All I had to do was pull my boots and jacket back on, so I had a few minutes to procrastinate and just admire my boyfriend. I guessed he could feel me staring at him because he shot me a look in the mirror.

"If I have to get up, so do you," he said.

"Nuh uh," I replied.

He turned and gave me another look, this time a challenging one that said 'get your ass up'.

"Make me," I said, sticking my tongue out.

"You asked for it," he shrugged and threw himself on top of me and began tickling me anywhere he could.

"JON! STOP!" I screeched his name, trying to wriggle away. My sides hurt from laughing and there were tears streaming from my eyes. It was getting harder to breathe and I was certain that someone from the hotel would be knocking on the door anytime to kick us out or tell us to keep it down.

"You forgot to say please," he said.

I whimpered. Damn it, why did that turn me on?

"Please," I pouted at him.

Jon laughed and rolled off the bed once more, extending his hand to help me to my feet. I wrapped my arms around him once I was standing and looked up at him, my chin resting on his sternum. He held my chin softly in his right hand, his left on the small of my back, and kissed me deeply, his tongue teasing my bottom lip as he pulled it gently into his mouth. His left hand moved from my lower back down to my ass. He cupped it gently at first and then gave it a light squeeze. Fuck, we didn't have time for this, but I wanted him so damn bad. It had been weeks. I willed myself to pull away after a moment. We really needed to get a move on.

"Later," I promised.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," he replied, kissing my lips softly once more. I helped him finish packing his bag for the show and then pulled my boots and jacket back on. I threw my purse over my shoulder and made sure to grab Jon's new phone out of my carry-on so I could show him how to work it over lunch.

"Ready?" I asked.

Jon nodded and pulled up the handle on his bag, dragging it behind him with his left hand and extending his right to me. I took it happily, lacing our fingers together. We made our way downstairs and out one of the side exits as fans had gathered in the lobby waiting to meet their favorite stars; we were somewhat pressed for time and our time together was precious. I didn't mind. I didn't feel like he was ashamed of me at all.

"What do you wanna eat?" Jon asked after we were inside the car. A few fans had noticed him, so he took a quick second to take a photo with them before kindly stepping away and getting into the car.

"Well, we're in Philly," I said.

"We are. So…cheesesteak," Jon replied. He took a left out of the parking lot and headed toward downtown, quiet and focused on dodging the traffic, his hands gripping the wheel tightly, lips pursed, teeth grinding. He had a strong disdain for traffic and the worst road rage out of anyone I knew.

Jon coasted further down the main road until we came to a triangular intersection where South Philly's two most popular cheesesteak joints sat directly next to one another. He parked the car parallel next to a park and fed the meter half a dozen quarters for an hour of time.

"So, how about I go to one and you to the other, then you can decide which is your favorite?" Jon suggested. He had spent a lengthy amount of time explaining to me why Geno's was superior; provolone cheese vs Cheez Wiz at Pat's. After strict ordering instructions, Jon sent me on my way to Pat's and went on his to Geno's. Why was ordering a sandwich so complicated? I went over his instructions in my head and was relieved when I saw the instructions posted above the ordering window. I quickly placed my order and moved to the pick up window where my sandwich was nearly slung at me.

'Jeez, people here are rude,' I thought to myself, picking up my order. I made my way to Jon and the car, my mouth watering; the smell of perfectly grilled steak and onions slathered in cheese on a soft, fresh roll was smacking me in the face and I was starving.

"Good thing I got the extra insurance. We're gonna get this car so greasy and cheesy," Jon laughed, unlocking the doors. We got into the car and split the sandwiches in half. I have to admit that Jon's was much better, the provolone cheese had a smoky flavor that married perfectly with the slightly charred grilled onions and thinly sliced steak. Mine wasn't bad, but I liked Jon's so much I made him promise to swing by on the way to the next town after RAW so I could get a whole one.

"We used to come here after shows when we'd get paid real good. Buy a couple steak sandwiches and split 'em between four of us. Beats ramen and stale pretzels any day," Jon told me.

"You have so many different stories and memories. It feels like you have one for every city you've been to. I like that about you. I like hearing your stories," I replied.

"Yeah? You know what I like?" Jon said, taking a bite of his food.

"What's that?" I asked.

Jon looked over at me and smiled softly, brushing my cheek with the back of his hand.

"Making new memories with you. Making new stories with you. Like this, this is something we'll both remember together."

Jon didn't show his soft side often; it just wasn't in his nature. His whole life had hardened him. The longer we spent together though, the more his walls came down.

"I love you," I said, nuzzling my cheek against his hand.

"And I love you. Come on. I wanna take you somewhere special to me," Jon started the car and began making his way back down the road. We came to a small building on a corner and he pointed at it, a reminiscent smile on his face.

"I won my first CZW title in that building," he told me.

"Aww. Babe. That's awesome," I replied, rubbing his arm softly.

"I hope you're around when I win my first WWE title someday," he added.

"You tell me when and I promise I'll be there," I told him.

Jon pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine.

"Come on," he took my hand and led me to the door, only letting go to fish a key out of his pocket.

"Um, Jon…" I was hesitant about going into this building; it looked somewhat sketchy, the lights were all off and the only thing that indicated what the building housed were painted letters on the door that read 'CZW offices and training facility – Authorized Personnel Only – Fan Entrance in back'.

"Trust me?" he asked. I nodded. Of course I trusted him; I just wasn't fond of the idea of going to jail for trespassing or breaking and entering. Jon then unlocked the door and pushed it open, flipping on the lights with a panel of switches next to the door. It was cold and void of humans; a large amount of gym equipment was placed in the front, free weights and a punching bag. There were no fancy machines here, no treadmills or stair-climbers, no bikes. Everything was old-school, the way Jon preferred to work out anyhow. There were huge industrial fans in the windows and a large steel-bladed ceiling fan hung over us, caked in layers and layers of dust. I assumed it had seen better days. In the back of the building was a wrestling ring that I immediately recognized from videos that Jon had showed me of his past matches. This was where he really made a name for himself; wrestling Tournament of Death matches and being hit with light bulbs, tangling himself in barbed wire, having mouse traps stuck to his tongue and fingers. He still couldn't bend his pinky on his left hand correctly.

Jon was a glutton for pain sometimes; a masochist. He had put his body through so much to get to the top of the ladder. This was where he really showed his passion and desire to succeed as a pro wrestler. This was Combat Zone Wrestling, CZW. This was where Jon Moxley's legacy was built.

"I won my first tag titles in this building. We had a lot of outdoor shows, but this one was here because there was a blizzard outside. It was me and Sami, you know Sami, and we were known as the Switchblade Conspiracy. So it was me and Sami against Drake and Scotty. Well we weren't supposed to win, you see," Jon explained as we walked toward the ring. He climbed the steps and got in, walking the ropes slowly. I could see how proud he was of himself in that moment; proud of how far he had come.

"But you did," I encouraged him to go on.

"Hell yeah, we did. Scotty got hurt. Sucks, but it's part of the game, so I hit my finisher on Drake and pinned him. Split second decision, me and Sami, tag team champions of the world. Well, at least as far as CZW was concerned," Jon mounted the turnbuckle and looked out around the building, his hands on his hips, "I never in a million years thought I'd get out of here. I wanted to make it so damn bad but I'd been told no so many times. TNA didn't want me. Ring of Honor neither. And I'd had try out after try out with WWE."

He climbed down off the turn buckle and exited the ropes, sitting on the apron of the ring.

"But you made it," I said, standing and walking closer to him.

"I did. I came so close to giving up so many times. I was close again when I met you," he replied, pulling me to him. He gingerly kissed my nose and tucked a few loose hairs behind my ears. He let out a heavy sigh, resting his chin on top of my head gently.

"Did I help?" I asked.

"Huh?" he replied, pulling back slowly so that he could look me in the eye.

"Did I help you not give up?" I asked again.

Jon smiled softy and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you did," he replied.

It made me feel good that I had changed his life for the better; he had definitely changed mine that was for sure. I was proud to call him mine and he was proud of me. That was something no guy had ever been of me; proud to call me his girl, no matter what I looked like. He didn't give a shit if his friends liked me or thought I was pretty. He only cared what he thought. I thought how nice it would be if there more Jonathan Goods in the world. I knew there had to be more girls like me, who had been torn apart by some shitty fuckboy of a guy - a sorry excuse for a man. I hoped Brandi had found one in Tommy and that maybe someday my sisters could find great guys to be good to them. They surely deserved it.

After a few minutes, Jon and I left the building and began making our way to the venue where Monday Night Raw would be held. Chelsea would be there and as soon as the show was underway I would be making my way to the crowd to watch it with her. I had convinced Jon to bring along one of her co-workers and Chelsea's favorite superstar, Wade Barrett so that we could have somewhat of a double date. I didn't want to Chels to feel like a third wheel, after all.

We arrived at the venue around four in the afternoon, three and a half hours before the show was to start. Jon had to check in with his bosses and creative department to find out what he would be doing for the evening. I headed off to find his dressing room and the catering area. Along the way, I ran into several of his co-workers whom I'd met when I had gone to visit him on the road a few weeks prior. They were all cordial and I was pleased that they remembered me. I couldn't help but notice how kind and polite one of his coworkers in particular was, Nick Nemeth, known to the WWE Universe as Dolph Ziggler. My sister Amanda was into him and his character. I had mentioned this to him prior and he remembered that as well, asking how she was with a bright smile on his face.

"She's great! I'll have to tell her you asked about her. She'll be thrilled," I said, laughing.

"You should give her my number. Get it from your boy," Nick patted me on the shoulder and left me with that same bright smile he'd given when he asked about Amanda.

I smiled to myself and took a left at the end of the corridor toward the locker rooms and catering, my head down, buried in my phone. I was texting my sister to let her know I had run into her fantasy man. I did however decide to keep it to myself that he wanted to start talking to her on the phone. I'd let that be a surprise, at least until I gave her his number.

I must have been really into the texts I was sending and receiving because I ran straight into another human; a petite blonde announcer that went by the name of Renee Young. I'd heard quite a bit about her. She was quite friendly with some of the guys.

"Watch where you're going," she scoffed.

"I'm so sorry. I was talking to my sister," I replied, stepping aside to move out of her way.

"You're Jon's girlfriend right?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied, "yeah. I am. I'm Mich." I introduced myself politely. The look of sheer annoyance never left her face. She scoffed again and shook her head.

"Wow, he really downgraded," she sneered.

"Excuse me?" I retorted; I was calm on the outside, but inside I was seething. Who the hell did she think she was?!

"You heard me. He downgraded. I can't believe he dumped me for you. Just wait, sweetie. Something better will come along and he'll kick you to the curb too. Or better yet, he'll come running back to me like he always does. He can't resist me and everyone knows it. Just wait and see. I've gotta run. Remember what I said. Stay out of the way. Especially mine," she walked away, her heels tapping the concrete floor as she did.

I felt like someone had hollowed me out with a spoon or something. I was completely gutted and hollowed out. Why in the world would Jon leave her for me? She was far prettier and thinner. They saw each other more often too, of that I was certain. What did I have that she didn't? I wanted to do as Renee had said and stay out of the way. I especially didn't want to run into her again. Part of me didn't want to run into Jon either. I didn't want him to see me upset. I didn't want to have to explain to him why all of a sudden I was down and in the mood to completely destroy myself and everything around me. A fight would ensue and I didn't want to argue with him. Instead I went to catering and fixed myself a plate of food. I found a secluded area in the corner away from everyone else and picked over my food.

"Michy," a chipper voice said from behind me. I looked up in time to see Colby's gap-toothed grin as he slid into the chair across from me. I gave him a weak smile and went back to staring at my plate.

"What's the matter sweetheart?" Colby asked, his voice softening. The happy-go-lucky tone was gone and he sounded genuinely concerned. I wanted to trust him but I was apprehensive. Maybe I didn't really give him enough credit. I took a deep breath and looked up.

"Can I trust you?" I asked.

"Yeah. I mean, I know we've never really talked but I'm a good listener. What's on your mind?" he replied. I'd never really looked at Colby before. He was really adorable, kind of like a puppy; he had curly black hair adorned with a thick blonde section on the right side of his head. It was all pulled back into a bun at the base of his skull, frizz and baby hairs sticking out everywhere. He had been wearing a snapback with a band name embroidered on the front, but he had politely removed it when he sat down to eat and placed it on his knee. His brown eyes were hidden behind rectangular black plastic glasses.

"I…met Renee a little bit ago," I started.

"Uh oh," he said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. He took a large bite of a sandwich he'd made and encouraged me to go on.

"She got pissed at me because I ran into her and then said Jon downgraded. She said he'd leave me for someone better or he'd come back to her. And I'm already so insecure it just…it kind of made me start thinking, ya know? What if he does meet someone better? What if he meets someone prettier and thinner and more into all the outdoorsy things he likes to do? What if he goes back to her because he can see her five days a week?" I rambled.

Colby shook his head.

"Jon loves you dude. He talks about you all the time; how wonderful you are to him and how he's never felt this way before. There's no way he'd ever go back to her. And I doubt he finds anyone else he'd ever rather be with. Trust me. I'm around him all the time. You're his girl. Nothing is gonna change that," he told me.

"Thanks Colby," I replied.

"Anytime," he grinned at me.


	15. An Epic Meltdown

"Bro, you got a second?" Colby patted me on the back as I was taping up my wrists, readying myself for the night.

"What?" I responded. I wondered where Mich had disappeared to. I hadn't seen her since we'd arrived. I wanted to see her before I went out to the ring.

"Listen. I was just talking to your girl. She was pretty down on herself. I think someone might have said something to her. So I was thinking, since I am engaged and all, I could give you some advice. Bro to bro, that's all," Colby held his hands up in defense. I didn't give the kid enough credit and I knew that. He was a cool dude. He had his faults, but he was a good friend when he tried.

"Alright. Shoot," I replied. I alternated pounding my fists into my palms to pack the tape down onto my hands so that it would stick well.

"Maybe take her out on a date. Buy her flowers. Make sure you tell her exactly how you feel about her. Tell her there's no other girl you'd rather be with. That there's no one better than her for you."

As Colby went on, my mind wandered. Why had he been talking to her? Who else had she been talking to and why did he want me to suddenly profess all of my feelings for my girlfriend to her? Like she didn't already know I cared about her. I told her I loved her. Wasn't that enough? It wouldn't surprise me if it wasn't, it never was. I was never enough for anyone. I was just a fuck up, a street dog. What if she had found someone better? Someone like Colby, who yes, was engaged but ever unfaithful to his fiancée. Nah, she wasn't his type. Maybe it was Dolph; they had gotten to know each other pretty well. But I knew Mich would never do that to her sister. It wouldn't be Joe, he wouldn't dare do that to me. Who did she have eyes for that wasn't me? Was Colby trying to tell me these things so I could reel her back in? I grumbled aloud and began shadow boxing trying to loosen up. I needed to clear my mind and find some space to be alone. I pulled on my jacket and began navigating through the halls until I found gorilla. I made my way out one of the side curtained entrances to the backstage area and hopped the barrier to get into the stands, taking a flight of stairs two at a time until I reached the top.

I took an empty seat and a deep breath. Maybe I was just overthinking things. But Colby had said that she wanted more affection and reassurance that I cared about her. It was hard to do that when I was on the road and she wasn't with me all the time. What was I doing wrong? Why is it that every relationship I got into, I somehow ran the girl off? I thought things were going really well with Mich and me. I felt my mood slipping into a deep, dark place in the corner of my mind. At least I could channel this into my match tonight and really kick some ass. I took a look at the clock on my phone and shoved it back into my pocket. I still had an hour before doors opened, but I needed to get back to my teammates and discuss strategy for the night.

I rounded the first corner back to my dressing room when I ran into my ex…whatever she was, Renee.

"Jon! Hey," she rubbed my arm as she held onto me.

"Hey," I grumbled, trying to pull away.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

I ran a hand over my head. Did I trust her or not? I wasn't sure but maybe she could give me some advice, maybe she knew how or what Mich was feeling or thinking.

"I think my girl's upset. Colby came to me and told me she was really down on herself. Said I should tell her how I feel and show her some more affection. Let her know she's the only girl for me," I told her.

"Is she?" she rubbed my arm again.

"Yeah she is. I love her, I want to spend the rest of my life with this girl," I replied.

"Are you sure? I mean, maybe you need to…just…experiment, just to be sure," she moved closer, rubbing my chest and leaning in for a kiss.

"Woah, what the fuck?" I pulled back, jerking away from her.

"Jon, come on. You can't tell me you don't miss what we had," she folded her arms across her chest and stared at me.

"I don't."

"Bullshit. You do. I see how you look at me, Jon. And I made sure to let her know. The poor girl needed to be warned that her little fantasy world she's living in with you won't last long. You'll come running back to me. I know you will. It's only a matter of time," she said.

I was fuming. Of course it had been Renee who'd put those thoughts in her head. Fuck, she was probably halfway back to Texas now. She probably hated me. If I had been my father, I would have kicked Renee's ass, but I was going to save that for someone else. I had to find my girl.

I didn't find Mich before my match started, nor did I find her after. I tried calling her, but I kept getting her voicemail. She was long gone and I would never forgive Renee for it. How the hell was I supposed to function without Mich in my life? It had only been a few months since we'd been together, but I literally couldn't imagine my life without her. She completed me. I wondered if maybe I could skip Smackdown and go home to find her. I hoped maybe she was at the hotel still, but I'd called our room too and gotten no answer. I grabbed my bags and ran across the street to the hotel, still in my gear. I spotted her in the back corner of the bar, a bottle of Jack in front of her. She was probably beyond wasted. She'd need my help getting back to the room. I took a deep breath and walked to the bar, dragging my bag behind me.

"Mich," I approached her cautiously.

She looked up at me tearfully, her makeup streaking down her face, mascara and eyeliner smeared all around her eyes. She immediately began to sob when she saw me, her entire body shaking while she did.

"Come on baby. Let's go to the room. Bill that to room 334," I told the bartender. He nodded at me in understanding as I helped Mich to her feet. I wrapped an arm around her waist and she held to me tightly, still weeping.

"I love you," I whispered and kissed her temple as we began to walk. It was hard dragging her along with my bag, but we made it to the elevator. Mich leaned against me, her head pressed into my chest, arms wrapped tightly around me. I rubbed her head lovingly and kissed her head again.

"I saw you talking to her, I saw you guys together. I saw her kiss you, " she sniffled.

"Who? Renee?" I asked. She nodded and sniffled again.

"Baby. Look at me," I let go of my bag and took her face into my hands, "I. Love. You. Not her. You. Okay? I never loved her and I never will. You are it for me. Don't listen to shit other people say to you. Listen to me. I fucking love you. I want to spend my whole life with you. Alright? And she didn't kiss me. She tried, but I didn't let her. Okay? The last girl I kissed was you. And you'll be the next, and the one after that, and the one after that. I hope you're the last girl I ever kiss. Got it?"

Mich nodded and her eyes welled up with tears again as she looked into mine. I pulled her close to me and held her tight. We'd missed the elevator twice now, so I hit the button again and waited for it to come back as I held her close.

We rode the elevator up to the room, Mich slumped against me, mumbling incoherently. I just rubbed her head and walked her to the room silently. I dropped my bags by the door and picked her up into my arms to carry her to bed. She was barely holding her eyes open. There was no telling how much she'd had to drink or how long she'd been sitting at the bar. I knew she'd wake up feeling like she'd been hit by a Mack truck; likely sick at her stomach and with a raging migraine. I made a mental note to have room service waiting for her when she woke up.

I laid her in the bed gently and rolled her over on her side just in case she got sick. She opened her eyes lazily and looked up at me.

"I love you," she mumbled.

"I love you too. You still mad at me?" I asked, stroking her cheek.

She shook her head.

"Good," I said, walking toward the door to get my things.

"Where are you going?" she asked, sitting up.

"I just have to get my bags. It's okay. Relax," I said soothingly. She relaxed back into her pillows, watching me as I walked to get my things.

I wanted desperately to get out of my ring gear so after I got inside with my bags and locked the door, I started pulling my gear off – starting with the tape on my hands, moving on to the padded vest. I tossed it onto the bathroom counter and peeled off my t-shirt then sat down to unlace my boots. I peeled off my socks and stuck them into my boots before throwing them across the bathroom under the sink. I smelled heavily of sweat and baby oil from my opponent that evening. I could definitely use a shower. I unfastened my belt and dropped my pants and boxers around my feet and turned the water on, cranking it all the way to hot. Mich was sound asleep, I could hear her quietly snoring in the bedroom in her drunken slumber.

Something I had said to Mich was resonating strongly, repeating over and over in my head. I had told her I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I'd told Renee too. I'd talked to Joe about it and given serious thought to buying a ring. Sure, we'd only been together a few months, but they say when you meet the one, you just know. I'd known since the moment I met her she was special; that's why I chased her all over Vegas that night to get her number. Mich was it for me. I was a hundred percent sure of that.

I did some of my best thinking in the shower. I wondered what kind of ring she would like. I thought simple was the way to go; she wasn't extravagant by any means. We had discussed the possibility of marriage in the future a few times. Maybe I should call one of her sisters or her friend Brandi to get some insight. I made a mental note to do that later when I was alone. I didn't want her to know I was planning this. I needed a way to execute it. I wanted it to be special for her. Maybe I could take her back to where we had our first real date and do it there, or on a picnic or something. That was more advice I could get from her friend and sisters. Damn, I had a lot of research to do.

I shut off the water and dried off before heading back into the bedroom to climb into bed with my girl. Though the blinds were drawn, the city lights peeked in around them and lit up her face just enough so I could make out her features. This was the girl I was going to marry. Sure, it hurt that she questioned my love for her, it hurt a lot. I wasn't going to let it destroy us though, no way in hell. She was mine and I'd be damned if I let her go for someone else to find. I brushed my fingers along her jaw and kissed her softly. She barely stirred, just mumbled something incoherently and cuddled up close to me, her body pressed against me snugly. I wrapped an arm around her and pulled the cool white sheet up over us. She mumbled again, this time something I understood very clearly.

"Mine," she had said.

"I am yours. Don't ever forget that," I told her quietly and placed a soft kiss on her forehead before closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.

I woke early the next morning and got out of bed carefully so not to disturb Mich. I readied myself for the gym and grabbed my backpack before heading out. She was still in a deep, deep sleep so she'd be out for a couple more hours. I had plenty of time to get in a good workout and grab breakfast before she would even begin to wake up.

I returned two and a half hours later, two cups of coffee in hand and a breakfast sandwich for each of us from a bagel shop. I opened up her coffee and poured in several cups of creamer along with two sugars and stirred it up before I began to wake her gently.

"Mich," I rubbed her arm gently.

She stirred slightly, but didn't open her eyes.

"I brought breakfast," I said, shaking her slightly.

"Mhmm," she nodded sleepily, but still didn't open her eyes.

"Come on, baby. Open up your eyes. We only have about two hours before we have to hit the road," I told her.

Mich cracked an eye and looked up at me before burying her face back into the pillows and making a loud groan. I fished in her purse for her headache medicine. She was bound to be hungover as hell after all the whiskey she'd downed the night before. She held her hand out, waiting for me to shake the pills into her hand.

"Head hurt?" I asked. She nodded and finally sat up, opening her eyes slowly. She downed the pills quickly with a sip of her coffee. She leaned forward and kissed me good morning before leaning back into the pillows again. She still tasted like whiskey.

"Did you say you brought breakfast?" she asked me.

"Yeah, I got you a bagel sandwich from this joint down the street. It was the only place still selling breakfast," I replied, digging in the brown paper bag and handing her food to her. She unwrapped it and took a bite, chewing silently. I knew the look on her face; she was thinking and she'd want to talk. I didn't though, not yet at least. I wanted to save that for when we got back to Texas.

"What happened last night?" Mich asked me quietly.

I took a large bite of my sandwich and shrugged.

"You do know, don't give me that," she said. Ouch. She was feisty when she was hungover.

I swallowed and took another bite. "I do, but I want to talk about it when we get home. Not here. I'm technically on the clock and it's not the time or place to fight. I'm not saying it's gonna escalate to that, but if it does now isn't the time or place. It's not professional of me," I replied.

"Fair enough. Just answer me one question?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Did I hurt you?"

"You didn't hit me, nah. I'm alright," I replied.

"But I hurt you," she stated this matter-of-factly, as if she knew the answer already.

"It's okay, Mich. I was more worried about you. You scared me, running off and getting trashed like you did. It's not like you. I was more worried about losing you. But listen, I love you okay? That's all that matters. I love you and no one else. Alright?"

She nodded, looking at her lap.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "I hope I didn't embarrass you in front of your bosses or anything. I didn't mean to bring our personal business to your job. I know you hate that."

"Hey," I bumped her chin softly so she'd look up at me, "don't worry about it. I haven't gotten cussed out and I worked out with Hunter this morning. We'll talk more when we get home if we need to. For now, what's the one thing you need to know?"

"That you love me," she replied.

"That's it. All you need to know. Okay?"

"Yeah. I love you too, Jon Boy."

******************* TWO WEEKS LATER *****************

I snuck out of the apartment quietly and took the stairs two at a time. I was off to meet up with two of the most important people in Mich's life – her sisters Blake and Amanda. I was nervous as hell, I didn't really see them often, we'd only met a handful of times if I was being honest. I hoped I'd made enough of an impression on them to persuade them to say yes to the question I had for them. I patted my jacket pocket to make sure I had the ring I'd purchased with the help of my best friend Joe while I was out on the road. I took a deep breath and slid into my Bronco, pumping the gas a few times before starting the engine. This damn truck was beyond old, but I didn't see the sense in buying a new one even though Mich suggested it at least twice a week.

It was Wrestlemania season, so I was super busy, barely getting a day a week at home. I had to utilize this one well, so I was skipping the gym and meeting up with her sisters for breakfast. I'd make sure to bring her some too and at least pretend I'd worked out. I didn't want her to know that her sisters were in on this. I'd played it out in my head a million times, me asking them for her hand in marriage. I was terrified one or both of them would say no.

I barreled down the highway in my truck toward the Cracker Barrel we'd designated as a meeting spot. There were few cars in the parking lot seeing as it was 7 am on a Wednesday; I found a spot and parked near her sisters cars and made my way inside. I found them at a corner table, a cup of coffee already sitting at the table for me.

"Hey guys. Thanks for the coffee," I said, pulling the chair out and taking a seat. I took a drink of my coffee and sat it back down, my hands noticeably shaking. Shit, not good.

"So what possessed you to call this meeting?" Blake asked. Damn, she wasted no time.

"Blake, let the man order his breakfast first," Amanda laughed at her youngest sister. She smiled warmly at me. I had a feeling she knew, but she wasn't the type to poke and prod until you talked. She was patient and kind, and I knew that if anyone would tell me they approved of me marrying Mich, it would be her. Blake would be tougher to crack.

The waitress came and took our orders and disappeared to the back. I shoved my right hand in my jacket pocket and wrapped my hand around the tiny black velvet box stuck inside of it. I pulled it out slowly and opened it, looking it over for the millionth time. It had a platinum band with three diamonds, one slightly bigger than the rest with the two smaller stones on the side. I'd taken countless quizzes online to see what her ring style was and every one of them had told me something like this was right for her. It was simple and beautiful, just like her. I'd done some research and found that the three stones represented the past, present, and future; I'd incorporated that into what I planned to say to both her sisters and her when I popped the question. I took a deep breath and turned the box so they could both see it.

"I knew it," Blake said, taking the box and inspecting the ring.

"Aww, Jon…we suspected this was what you wanted to meet up for. It's beautiful," Amanda said.

"Yeah? You think she'll like it?" I asked.

"Definitely," Blake replied, nodding. She passed the box to Amanda before it made its way back to me.

"Good. It took me forever to pick one. So…I really brought you guys here to ask you a question," I said.

"Go on then," Blake said, resting her chin on her hands, staring at me intently. Amanda's stare was softer, a smile on her face. She was excited for her sister, I could tell. Blake was sort of scaring me if I'm being completely honest, but there was no turning back. It was now or never.

"I brought you here to ask…for your permission to propose to your sister. I know how close all of you are, and I know she isn't close with her parents. She loves you guys. So I figured I'd ask you guys…" I said, wringing my hands together. I hadn't been this nervous probably ever.

"If we said no, would that stop you?" Blake asked.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"No. I love her, and I want to marry her. I've never been able to picture myself spending forever with someone, but her…she's different. I don't think about anyone or anything else but her."

The waitress came with our food and as soon as she was gone, Blake folded her hands in her lap and took a deep breath.

"You gave the answer I was looking for, so I can't tell you no. You have my blessing, and by the look on big sister's face over here, you have hers too, but I really can't speak on her behalf, so I'll turn this over to her," she gestured to Amanda.

"Absolutely. Yes," Amanda said excitedly.

I felt myself grinning, now far less nervous than I had been seconds ago.

"Thank you guys. Now I just hope she says yes, too."


End file.
